Dermont stewed in the answer to his question, letting the group move on without him for a moment. He should have known better, but he was hoping this would be a big break for him. A chance to move out of his parents' house and make a name for himself. He could feel his cheeks getting rosy as he held back the mix of frustration and concern. He didn't have the money to rent a room anywhere, and fighting crime seemed like a full-time job. How was he going to balance a job with death-defying acts daily? All the while, he could feel the sword's disapproval of his question. Worse than its constant chiding was the lack of anything being spoken directly to his head. When the booming and deep voice of the blade finally echoed in his mind, he winced as he expected further beration, but the blade offered guidance.
My champions are seldom vagabonds. Prove thine merit to the town, and they shall care for you. A true hero will always have a home and rarely a hovel
These words were enough to encourage Dermont to rush after the others. His heavy armor clanked and rattled with each hurried step as he entered the hallway. He entered the miniature convention. The situation was relatively mundane, but to Dermont, it was like being a kid in a candy store. Robots, beastmen, witches, scientists, it was like they had gathered everything from all his favorite shows and comics and mashed them into this room.
Choose wisely, hero, thine faction may mold who you become
The sword gave him a warning that he headed, as he had started making a beeline to the blue-furred man purely out of his being the most interesting figure in the room, but stopped when the words rang in his mind. Taking a further glance over the room, he saw the witch and smiled at her. She was the only other husky fellow in the room. Her attire made him think she would understand his powers. He was magic, too, or at least the things he used were. His sword, however, did not seem to agree with this choice.
Do not be bedeviled by the witch, Dermont! Stay cautious, a sorcerer is a dangerous foe to have!
Dermont rolled his eyes at the sword's discontent. This was not a place where he would be making any sort of foes. Nothung had stressed such concerns about other spell casters when it had accompanied Dermont to LARP events; perhaps it was from a previous trauma?
"Oh come on, she seems nice," Dermont replied to the blade, trying to keep his voice low to not seem insane. This sword only boomed louder in his head, causing him to clutch his head.
That is how they trick you, fool! Worry not, for I shall remain vigilant to her treachery. You do not have the keen mind to do so alone.
Dermont sighed as he recovered from the deafening ring in his head.
"Ok, ok fine. Just... don't embarrass me," He whimpered.
I, Nothung the dragon slayer, slayer of Nalfeshnee, culler of the wicked, do not embarrass my champions...
Dermont tried to ignore the embarrassing proclamations going on in his head as he made his way to the MAGI kiosk, only to see that one of the other heroes was already there. She introduced herself as 'butterfly'. He couldn't help but smile at the name. It was far kinder and brighter than his name. It made her seem approachable, something a hero should be. Unfortunately for him, Butterflies' extensive experience and impressive-sounding references made her seem unapproachable. It quickly reminded him that for all intents and purposes, he was just some nerd in a suit of armor.
Dermont patiently waited slightly to the side of the young ninja lady, letting her get the chance to properly ask questions and talk with the woman at the kiosk. It gave him time to come up with an equally impressive-sounding introduction and to stake out the situation himself. More importantly to him, he would prefer for Butterfly not to be here when he asked his more desperate questions, like: "Do you offer room and board?" or "Is Dungeons and Dragons considered insensitive?".
N3v3rM0r3,
Krasnaya,
Randomness,
Lurking Krog,
RPM,
xxjessicaxx,
Yankee,
StarfrostedFox,
Kaiidth
