Force - Forward wasn't certain of what was going on, all this talk about the sun disappearing and how these motes were the answer was beyond him. But brute strength? Physical labor? That he knew. That he could throw himself into wholeheartedly. When the rock was unearthed, the world exploded into light. Though he screwed his eyes shut from the sudden glare, the totoma still found himself blinded for a split-second before everything around him changed...

No longer fetid swamp air, the breeze was cool and clean. Instead of muck and mire, the road they tread on was solid and better kept than a dirt road. They were close. They were so very close to civilization, which meant they could get their wounds tended to and retrieve the bounty. They were battered, bruised, very bloodied but they'd bested the beast.

A part of him felt oddly unsettled with his gait, as if he was two fewer limbs then he was supposed to but he chalked that up to all the concussive force and numerous gouges he'd had to withstand during the battle. Such was the life of a barbarian, but the red-skinned orc could not complain. It was his honor and duty to bear the brunt of the attacks. And better he be the one to take the damage than the other people in his party.

The red-skinned orc glanced over his shoulders to check up on his traveling companions.

Ruriska wrote:

Foolish had arrived fashionably late to the party, as the last of the digging was completed. Rocking up with a grin and a curious glint in his eyes, only to be immediately blinded and -

Everything ached. Not an uncommon occurrence for an adventurer but today it felt as if he’d really been put through the ringer. That had been no easy fight. Even now he could feel blood oozing sticky and uncomfortable down his back. But he was alive, they were all alive. With many thanks for that directed to that absolute unit of an orc walking just ahead.

The orc in question had just glanced back and Fool met his gaze, holding up his lute.

“What do you think?” He asked. “Fixable?”

The body of the lute was hanging limply from the broken neck, barely hanging on, swinging along with each step. All of the strings were snapped and the base was covered in gore and blood splatters where Fool had used it as a makeshift weapon. A bard without an instrument. What would he be without her? Just some half-elf loser with big hair and too many insults ready to go. And insults never went down as well without a little music involved.

Forward's eyes studied the instrument and even someone so musically uninclined as he (beyond anything that resembled drums) could tell it was time to retire the thing.

"Barely enough for kindling." Gruff as he was, it was not said unkindly. He adjusted his hold on the large pack containing most of the harvested body parts, while tucked under his other arm was the creature's rolled up pelt. "But a set of the beast's claws can afford you a dozen new ones. We have the ranger and druid to thank for that."

He tried to block the memory of a massive clawed paw arcing downwards, nearly crushing his group had he not had the wherewithal and rage to prevent it. The ache in his muscles and the assortment of broken bones wouldn't let him forget it so soon, though. "But your instrument's death was not for nothing. You dealt a decisive blow with it."

“You’re right,” Fool sighed, cradling the instrument in his arms.

They’d had a lot of good times together.

And a lot of bad ones too.

But that last one had certainly been the worst. Fool’s fingers were still bloodied from furiously strumming, song after song. Of healing, of strength, of speed. Desperate to offer his companions even the slightest advantage against their foe.

And then he’d been all tapped out of magic and all he’d had left was to swing her for dear life.

It had worked but she’d paid the price.

“We are gathered here today to farewell my beloved lute, Barbara,” he lamented, his voice lifting so everyone could hear. “The moments we spent together, the music we crafted and the loves that we wooed shall forever be celebrated. Together, we were amazing and you will never be forgotten.”

And then shaking his head sadly, he unceremoniously tossed her into the bushes by the side of the road.

He was only quiet for a couple more steps.

“I’m thinking I’ll try out a harp next. Do I look like a harp man?” He mimed playing on a harp. “This really isn’t the outfit for a harp. Too much blood. So just imagine I’m wearing a cute little capelet.” He mimed it again, this time with the imagined capelet. “Well?”

"Why not a harp and another lute?" Certainly Forward favored his great axe but the great sword he also brought along wasn't just for show. The alternative weapon may not have had the same level of history as his axe but a spare was nothing to sneeze at. Maybe it was a bard thing.

As for the topic of fashion, Forward had to shake his head. "You know what makes you look good better than I would. It's why I came to you for help with the cleric after all." The shyness on the orc's face was almost imperceptible underneath all that dirt and blood but his partymates, and Foolish especially would be able to tell.

“Oh, you’re right!” Fool said once more, this time spreading his arms wide and glancing between his hands as if imagining both instruments. “I’ll dual wield!” And maybe he’d pick a flute for good measure. Triple-wield! He’d always been a multi-love kind of guy. Plenty of Fool to go around. He had two hands and a mouth always ready to go.

“It’s true I do have an eye for fashion.” He hitched forward a step, trying to come in line with Forward, his movement hampered as his leg recalled being smashed into by a very meaty tail. But he did make it, stepping in beside his friend with only a bit of a limp.

His hand lifted, reflexively about to pat the Orc somewhere on his back (there was no reaching the shoulder), only to come up short when he realized he wasn't sure where he could touch that wasn’t going to be some sort of broken, bruised or battered something.

So he kept his hands to himself and chuckled instead.

“You know, I never wanted to say this because I like it when you come to me for help with your lovelife but you hardly need me at all. All you needed was an introduction and that cleric was falling over themselves to get at you... well, once they stopped being kind of cutely clueless.” He gave a dramatic fake sigh. “Honestly I was a little jealous. But also yes, you looked incredible in the doublet I suggested, so I do get brownie points.”

He thought for a moment.

“I think I will get a capelet.”