The Broken Crown

Jorg's Story: Arson

Jorg was looking forward to some arson. Run to Grenscombe, break into Roselind’s house, find Devlin’s cup, burn the hag’s house to the ground. It was sometimes refreshing to lean into the Katsu and Gnaerk way of doing things. It was effective at least and this plan didn’t involve murdering anything mortal.

As the group rushed through the wood, adrenaline was coursing through Jorg’s body. He was excited. What could be closer to Kord’s path than defending a small town against a coven of witches? The party had been particularly successful in driving them off just now, Jorg wondered whether their luck could be attributed to freeing the celestial. It was certainly the right thing to do, and perhaps Kord was smiling down on him for helping to unshackle a being of light. He glanced to the sky briefly, allowing himself a tusked grin.

Ideally the hags would reach Grenscombe at a similar time. Jorg had enough ego to enjoy the thought of casting the fiends down in the town square, with an audience of grateful townsfolk. It would be a fitting end to this country jaunt. Then the Heroes of Woodcrest would accept thanks; they’d gather together to wave farewell, and then disappear in a flash of arcane light. Jorg could almost hear the bard’s tales already.

Jorg smiled at his fantasy. Childish, yes, but hope could be a driving force. “Let’s pick up the pace, we’ve got a house to burn down!” he called to his companions.


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