You Don't Get To Slay Dragons Right Out Of The Gate (Kadrin and Candira)

Natasha rolled her eyes, her fighting clothes cleaned from yesterday. Dwarven women, she discovered, were masters of house-hold tasks. Each was gifted in cleaning, cooking, and hospitality, and they could all fight to boot. The warrior carried much respect for them. They were knowledgeable people, and quite kind once you knew their customs. But she held even greater respect for them as she found out that Corten couldn't complain about breakfast. The silence was music to her ears. Though she didn't eat nearly as much breakfast as her magical counterpart, she ate enough to give her energy. If she ate too much, things on the battlefield wouldn't have gone smoothly at all. The last thing she needed was to worry about vomiting.

The warrior stood, and stretched a bit, tying her hair back with a leather thong. Just barely visible from under her clothes was a white golden chain. She looked at her partner and held out a hand. "Are you ready to leave?" she asked, adjusting her belt with its many pouches.

Corten had to make a significant check before he agreed. Plate - cleaned. Coffee - empty. Chance of being able to continue eating while remaining in Natasha's good graces - little to none. And, most importantly, a linear equation - the faster he was ready to leave, the faster they could kill Boss Skiggla, and thus the faster they could get their reward, and thus the faster they could divide it evenly, and thus the faster he could get more money to spend on more luxurious breakfasts. So, while he did sigh deeply at the abandonment of warm fire and hot food, he nodded, and stood. "Ready to go," he said, fastening his belt knife - hardly much of a weapon, but enough to fend off little things that made their way through his spells. "It's back southwest to the Barren Road and then west to Skiggla's camp," he reminded her, quite used to being the navigator and unwilling to let that slide now.

"Very well," she said softly, walking with him as they left. Once they were outside again she started walking in the direction Corten had suggested. "Did you sleep well?" she asked him, knowing as soon as she did that she would hear a list of complaints about her waking skills. Still, she would put up with them for some sort of conversation. Things could get very boring on the road, and she wasn't much in the mood for singing before taking on an entire camp of night goblins and Boss Skiggla. Not that she fancied the chore in the first place. It was the only way she could really stand to make a living. Besides, it gave her a chance to knock Corten down a few pegs.

"The dwarves can do wonderful things with stone," Corten said immediately upon being asked, obviously having held that back by main force, "but someone should really tell them about the better possibilities of making beds with feathers. I'm sure they understand cloth, they wear clothes, after all, even under all the armour, so I can only assume that cold hard beds are just the sort of thing they're really into. But it would be nice, just the sort of thing that makes people remember you as a good host, to provide human-sized beds in, you know, warm and comfortable. Personally I find it difficult to dream of anything but backaches and dreams are important for mages, you know? Still, at least the weather was nice, I stayed in one inn during a blizzard, I swear the walls were actually just there to channel the cold, it was like that trick the Nordics do with the ice where they make meat last longer keeping it in the walls of their igloos or something."

So, a wholly predictable diatribe... but Natasha might have noticed that her waking techniques did not come up at all.

"I was thinking of Black Fog at the gates," Corten said, changing the subject, "to give you cover when you come in, then lightning to each side and a firestorm behind you, and then... well, at that point I think it'll pretty much be up to improvisation."

"A bit flashy isn't it?" she asked a hand on her chin. "I agree with the fog, but we should use the light to our advantage, don't you think? Besides, if you're going to summon up fog...I think you'll have to do it soon. It's rather conspicuous when it comes out of nowhere..." she said. She hadn't meant to criticize his plans quite so much, but it just came out that way. "A few strikes of lightning would be helpful...the firestorm, however, is particularly difficult for me to work with since it burns up a lot of my oxygen. Why not send in the lightning first then create the firestorm and send me in once a path is cleared? I'll take out any lingering and confused goblins and defend you as well. Of course that means you'll have to stay close to me..."

Her mind was firing up into strategy mode. Natasha was a thoughtful warrior. There were brains behind the graceful muscles...but she wasn't always sure of the best plans. She looked at him for his thoughts on her revisions. His, she admitted in her mind, was much more aesthetically pleasing, but winning battles wasn't always accomplished with style.

"Flash of light," Corten said, thinking. "Hmm... how about this. I'll use a minor version of the Black Fog around you, and only you, to muffle your footsteps and hide your form; you can kill their sentries before they know you're coming. Then, I'll start a flash of light at the entrance to their camp, which should blind and dazzle them, and follow that up with three lightning strikes keyed to small flashfires. You can run in and take advantage of the confusion to find Skiggla, and I'll stay close behind striking at targets of opportunity with Storm and Fire Lore. We're only in real danger if they swarm us, and I can keep them scattered with my magic; it'll be a few minutes of getting ourselves lamentably dirty and then we can laugh all the way to the Baron and his dozens of gold pieces in reward."

"As glorious as that plan is," she said solemnly, "I think you might be underestimating our enemy just a bit, don't you?" Still, she had no better plans. "I don't suppose you know any kind of protection spells?" she asked wondering if he would be of any help to her in that sort of way. She'd never really asked before. Then again, she had never really needed to. "I'll go along with your plan, but if things get too dangerous, just leave. There's no point in the both of us dying." Blunt though it was, Natasha had made a good point. If things were too difficult for Corten to continue on, he was better off leaving her to die because without his help, she'd probably go down soon after, taken down by superior numbers. Her eyes found his and locked with them as if they were exacting a promise from him. One that ensured that he would stay alive to whine another day.