Sigfried's Journal - Part 6
What a strange group I travel in.
No leadership, though I assume the cleric fancies himself a captain, especially now that he drags along a minion (to his death, undoubtedly) to follow his example of never doing what is necessary. If we listened to him, we’d still be in the barn with the pig, trying to figure out what order we should be walking in. They all confuse haste and impulsiveness with proactivity and battle awareness.
A traitor lies in Alex. So foolish not to realize that stepping back for a moment of preparation does not equate to taking your eye off the prize. It often times guarantees the prize. Not surprising though and certainly not unexpected. Blood is thicker than water and considerably more influential than logic. When her remains are found, he’ll either become a true warrior or collapse under the weight of despair. Either works.
You have to adapt. This group lacks adaptability. They quarrel over helping one another in the thick of battle. Pettiness and hurt feelings have no place there. What I keep inside is for me and unlike the others, I share what is best for the group WHEN the time is right. Say less, do more, Cleric.
This group isn’t even a group. It’s a mass of individual members.
The other one, the Dusk Blade. Complains about gems and rings, gold and stones. He too has a mouth bigger – far bigger – than his heart. Odd though how I pair with him so often in battle. Good fighter, although I can’t tell if he makes that weapon of his or if the weapon makes him.
I am beginning to like the ninja though – or whatever he’s supposed to be. Unfortunate though, he seems to have an albatross around his neck. Babysitting is never fun, particularly in this case. I guess I can relate now that I’m bound to this hunk of metal on my back which has proved useless thus far. Excited and apprehensive to see how that whole thing unfolds. Come at me Cathist, please. You think you’re the worst I’ve seen?
Remeber this serpent, I chose you, too.