Missed out on another sell-sword commission. My contact told me they hired a human to protect their caravan because “you get more barbarian for the same price”. Jerk. Decided to cut my losses, not his face, and headed to Red Larch. Figured I might as well start handing out some calling cards to drum up business but ended up handing out my favourite handaxe to a bear’s face. And did the cleric or monk even offer to chip in for a replacement after I saved their lives? No. I suppose it’s true that folks who put their trust in gods and spells do not appreciate the value of good steel.
They are not like any kind of holy folk I have ever seen before. I am not sure who, or what, their gods are but they had no problem killing bandits, scavenging for parts, looting corpses and desecrating the tomb of a good family so perhaps they ascribe to the maxim that the gods help those who help themselves?