"What a headache that must be here. Leave be, Maryani." Though his attention seems to be wholly absorbed in fixing the clasp on a necklace - no one has yet asked how it came to be broken or why he's doing the repair, perhaps for fear he'll answer - Martel's urbane reproach comes promptly, without looking up.
Ulath sighs. "This is probably going to upset everybody-" he glances from Maryani to Martel, but tellingly doesn't amend his statement, "-but try to consider it on its merits instead of just going up in flames about it."
"That doesn't sound too promising, old boy," Stragen murmurs. "You'd better break it to us gently."
"I don't think there is a gentle way, Stragen. Betuana's dispatches are getting more and more shrill. The Trolls won't come out in the open any more. The mounted Atans can't get at them with lances, and the arrows and crossbow bolts are hitting more trees than Trolls. They're even setting grass-fires so they can hide in the smoke. Betuana's right on the verge of calling her people home, and with all due
( ... )
"We have to take the Trolls away from Cyrgon," Ulath replies, scratching behind Mmrr's ears absently, "We can't let him continue to teach them even rudimentary tactics, and we definitely don't want them cooperating with each other the way they have been."
Maryani glances over at Martel, wide-eyed.
"And how exactly are you going to take totally unmanageable brutes away from a God?" Stragen asks him.
"I was sort of thinking along the lines of letting their own Gods do it. The Troll-Gods are available, after all. Ghwerig imprisoned them inside Bhelliom, and Sparhawk's got Bhelliom tucked away inside his shirt. I'd imagine that Khwaj and the others would do almost anything for us if we promise to give them their freedom."
For some time, Stragen's been habitually carrying a pair of gold coins, rolling and weighing them in his hands. With a shocked exclamation - "Are you mad?" - he drops them. "We can't turn them loose! That's unthinkable!"
"Don't hold back, Stragen," Martel drawls - keeping his own counsel on the matter for now, at least, while his Thalesian friends debate the matter. He pinches the clasp on the pendant in his hands closed finally, and dangles it towards Nouria.
"Oh, shut up, Martel."
"I'd be more than happy to consider alternatives - if anyone can come up with some. The threat to Atan is serious enough, but the longer Cyrgon dominates the Trolls, the more they're going to learn from him. Sooner or later, they'll go back to Thalesia. Do we really want a trained army of Trolls outside the gates of Emsat? We've got at least some small advantage if we deal with the Troll-Gods. We hold the key to their freedom. But we don't really have anything Cyrgon wants - except Bhelliom itself. I'd rather deal with the Troll-Gods, myself."
Nouria darts forward to reclaim her necklace, though she is staying far away from the center of this tactical spat, thank you very much.
"Why don't we just have Sparhawk take Bhelliom to northern Atan and exterminate the Trolls with it?" Stragen asks.
Sparhawk shakes his head. "Bhelliom won't do that, Stragen. It won't obliterate an entire species. I know that for certain."
"You've got the rings. You could force it to do as you say," Stragen suggests.
Maryani just frowns at him.
"No, I won't do that," Sparhawk replies, calmly, "Bhelliom isn't a slave. If it cooperates, it's going to have to be willingly."
"We can't just turn the Troll-Gods loose, Sparhawk. I may be a thief, but I'm still Thalesian. I'm not going to just sit by and let the Trolls overrun the entire peninsula."
Comments 188
"What a headache that must be here. Leave be, Maryani." Though his attention seems to be wholly absorbed in fixing the clasp on a necklace - no one has yet asked how it came to be broken or why he's doing the repair, perhaps for fear he'll answer - Martel's urbane reproach comes promptly, without looking up.
Ulath sighs. "This is probably going to upset everybody-" he glances from Maryani to Martel, but tellingly doesn't amend his statement, "-but try to consider it on its merits instead of just going up in flames about it."
"That doesn't sound too promising, old boy," Stragen murmurs. "You'd better break it to us gently."
"I don't think there is a gentle way, Stragen. Betuana's dispatches are getting more and more shrill. The Trolls won't come out in the open any more. The mounted Atans can't get at them with lances, and the arrows and crossbow bolts are hitting more trees than Trolls. They're even setting grass-fires so they can hide in the smoke. Betuana's right on the verge of calling her people home, and with all due ( ... )
Reply
"We have to take the Trolls away from Cyrgon," Ulath replies, scratching behind Mmrr's ears absently, "We can't let him continue to teach them even rudimentary tactics, and we definitely don't want them cooperating with each other the way they have been."
Maryani glances over at Martel, wide-eyed.
"And how exactly are you going to take totally unmanageable brutes away from a God?" Stragen asks him.
"I was sort of thinking along the lines of letting their own Gods do it. The Troll-Gods are available, after all. Ghwerig imprisoned them inside Bhelliom, and Sparhawk's got Bhelliom tucked away inside his shirt. I'd imagine that Khwaj and the others would do almost anything for us if we promise to give them their freedom."
Reply
For some time, Stragen's been habitually carrying a pair of gold coins, rolling and weighing them in his hands. With a shocked exclamation - "Are you mad?" - he drops them. "We can't turn them loose! That's unthinkable!"
"Don't hold back, Stragen," Martel drawls - keeping his own counsel on the matter for now, at least, while his Thalesian friends debate the matter. He pinches the clasp on the pendant in his hands closed finally, and dangles it towards Nouria.
"Oh, shut up, Martel."
"I'd be more than happy to consider alternatives - if anyone can come up with some. The threat to Atan is serious enough, but the longer Cyrgon dominates the Trolls, the more they're going to learn from him. Sooner or later, they'll go back to Thalesia. Do we really want a trained army of Trolls outside the gates of Emsat? We've got at least some small advantage if we deal with the Troll-Gods. We hold the key to their freedom. But we don't really have anything Cyrgon wants - except Bhelliom itself. I'd rather deal with the Troll-Gods, myself."
Reply
Nouria darts forward to reclaim her necklace, though she is staying far away from the center of this tactical spat, thank you very much.
"Why don't we just have Sparhawk take Bhelliom to northern Atan and exterminate the Trolls with it?" Stragen asks.
Sparhawk shakes his head. "Bhelliom won't do that, Stragen. It won't obliterate an entire species. I know that for certain."
"You've got the rings. You could force it to do as you say," Stragen suggests.
Maryani just frowns at him.
"No, I won't do that," Sparhawk replies, calmly, "Bhelliom isn't a slave. If it cooperates, it's going to have to be willingly."
"We can't just turn the Troll-Gods loose, Sparhawk. I may be a thief, but I'm still Thalesian. I'm not going to just sit by and let the Trolls overrun the entire peninsula."
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