Improv: ECL 3, Kona, Shield Elf, Battle Dancer level 3: Entry 6

"This stinks"

Oh gods, in EVERY possible way. This whole thing stinks. The sudden plague of undead. His own near succumbing to it. The attitude of the rulers of this town and land, who seem to take this as an opportunity for wanton slaughter and power grabs...

... and of course: the STINK stinks! 60 humans trapped ... under a RIVER.... in a SMALL tunnel... for days! And now add a giant, an orc, a dragon, and all the rest of his own band, and presto. Not a single thing about any of it that doesn't

Stink.

Most of the refuges were clustered near the sealed entrance, listening to the sounds of battle on the other side, so Kona took the opportunity to move back. He slowly walked the length of the tunnel. For fear of rats or maybe just the psychological idea of an entire river just above their heads - either way - most people were avoiding the deep central valley area. Fine with him. He needed a little time to think. Because something else stank: his own effectiveness.

Kona winced, thinking of his only 2 successful "battles." One was against a bear that he didn't want to fight, and the other he was armed with a Dwarven weaopn. UGH.. And since the odds of another slap fight with a bear OR him grabbing that hammer again were very slim, he faced a serious problem. How to be useful. It was not a light question.

I am not willing to trot behind the holy man and carry his torches and foot oil. I'm not a slave anymore. I will not rely on another for all things. But this means I  - I also must stop fighting as only a slave would fight. Watch the other fighters. LEARN their techniques. 

He'd have to change. He'd have to. There was no other choice. Make a difference to your war brothers. Or be....

Dead weight.