The Glass Cannon Podcast - Giantslayer Episode 300 Part 1 - Master and a Brandyr

Episode Date: October 26, 2021

The March to 300 ends with glimpses into the past, the present and a possible future. For more podcasts and livestreams, visit glasscannonnetwork.com. To become an official member of the Naish, subscribe today at http://www.jointhenaish.com. Want to be a part of Glass Cannon Nation? Follow us at twitter.com/glasscannonpod instagram.com/theglasscannon facebook.com/glasscannonnetwork tiktok.com/@glasscannonnetwork Get the best apparel and gaming accessories in the biz at https://glasscannonnetwork.com/store If you enjoyed this, we have several other series featuring Call of Cthulhu - Time For Chaos Delta Green - Get in the Trunk Pathfinder 2E - Glass Cannon Live! Strange Aeons Pathfinder 1E - Legacy of the Ancients Traveller - Voyagers of the Jump and so much more! Join us every Thursday night for Campaign Two of The Glass Cannon Podcast – a playthrough of the Pathfinder 2E Gatewalkers Adventure Path! Videos premiere on YouTube Thursday nights at 8PM ET with a companion podcast available at midnight. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

Previously on the Glass Cannon Podcast. My character's a human witch. Her name is Gormley Call. Gormley? Gormley. Gormley. She's a native of True Now, but rumors swirl around about what happened. But she was cast out as a teenager and has been living in the mountains for decades,

hanging out with the rocks and artifacts and her trusty green-stained scorpion familiar, Howie. Gormley, where are we? She just looks up, looks down over at the cliff, spreads her hands out, has it to say, you know where you are. I'm dead. I've died. She puts her finger up towards her lip and motions to you to come with her.

We frantically rush up to and inside one of the tents where we see a woman crying through the pains of labor. The doctor tells her to push and the baby emerges. Here is your baby boy. What should we name him? The mother smiles and says, Silvermane.

The sparkling blue eyes of the infant open for the first time, and somewhere deep behind those eyes, Lork's eyes open as well. Oh! Oh my god! Dearest father, if you are reading this, I have met my end.

Life has been hard since I left Absalom. This is followed by just like rapid fire scenes of you see Galabras being beaten. You see Galabras being worked to the bone. Galabras is now in a cart just rolling through Avastan. You see knights of Galabras just thinking, plotting how he can get out of there. But after some travails, of which I will not speak, I found good friends and

a home in Tunau, a small town in the hold of Belkson. Brander, you must know, has spent all of his time twisting the wheels of fate in his favor. But for all the knowledge that Brander has of the great doom which is about to befall our world, there are a few things he does not know.

I have been moving pieces as well. The one thing I've learned in adventuring with you, with Pembroke, with Gormley, with Calabras, with Lork, is that there's strength in the small people of Galarian. Flushes forward and you see a sign for an apothecary. And Baron is inside this shop, purchasing a mysterious looking pouch. Later that night, you see Baron and his parents sitting down for dinner. It's very quiet.

Baron's got his head in his plate, just kind of looking up at his parents from time to time. The mother just face plants into her dish. Baron then walks out into the night, over to the armory, and then takes the Red Heart family pistol. At one time, there was a human boy in that group who, well, he sold us out. Sold off where our food stores were to another gang and they took everything we had. I tracked him down, I found him, and I strangled him to death in the street. The current leaps throughout her body, lights up her skeleton through her pale, translucent skin. Her body lights up her skeleton through her pale, translucent skin.

She turns her head ever so, like, forcefully to look down in horror to see a 12-year-old Della Narn. Oh! Grasping her arm. Oh! Electricity flowing from her body into her mother's. Oh, my God. She yells her daughter's name through the pain. she yells her daughter's name through the pain Della leaps into the air

spins valetically and lands a kick in her mother's midsection sending her stumbling back toward the portal the portal's pull tugs her mother in the nothingness enfolds her and she disappears young Della stands there

and just looks up at her father well done he says He disappears. Young Della stands there and just looks up at her father. Well done, he says. Yes, you have disposed of many, but some still live and may fight for Volstice. Dangerous foes you will have to face my wolf is inside. Through the open doors flies this creature that looks like a huge

plant slash dragon. Oh my goodness. In fact, it looks like this. Oh no. That is so cool. And it just fucking screams. And rears its head back. The adventure

continues. Well, dear boy, I told you we would meet again. It's unfortunately for you. Your story now comes to a close. Now. Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls, children of all ages, I want to thank you for joining us today on this very special occasion. We haven't

done an intro in a long time. And honestly, after this one, you might hear one more for the final ep, and that's it. But special episodes like this deserve a bit of a preamble, I think. You know, when we started the Glass Cannon podcast, long before it was a whole network of shows, it was just one podcast, this one. And our one goal was to make the best show we could with the best tools we had at our disposal as five nobodies who had a shared love for gaming and entertainment. And over six years later, podcasting and everything that sprouted from it

has become our livelihood with all of these shows, a live tour and a theme park in the works. No, I'm just kidding. Matthew wouldn't meet the height requirement for any of the rides. It would be selfish. Either way, it has been a wild ride. And no matter how many shows we do, this one will always be not only my, but our baby. how many shows we do, this one will always be not only my, but our baby. Today's episode, just like 100 and 200 and 250 is truly a love letter. I said it before, it's a love letter to those of you who enjoy the stories we tell and the fun that we have at the table.

This has obviously been a crazy year for everyone. COVID has changed the world in ways that most of us haven't even fully processed yet, probably. For us as a company, I had to make some drastic decisions right when this all began to ensure that we could survive a global pandemic. And thankfully, mainly due to the unrelenting generosity and support of you, the niche. We not only weathered the storm, but we had our most successful year yet in 2020. Now that growth wasn't without its problems, though. You all know I'm a maniac. And one way in which that manifests is trying to put out as much quality content as possible so that you, our listeners, feel like you're getting tremendous value for choosing to support us. There are a lot of options out there, and yet you choose to

support us. And I think that's one of the many things that really sets us apart from the competition, the sheer volume of quality content. Content is king, as they say. Now, the difficult side of all that is I've also painted us into an unsustainable corner in many ways, as we often run ourselves ragged to try and stay on top of this robust content schedule. We're still a startup. We're in startup mode. And part of being a startup is everyone wearing a bunch of hats to get things off the ground. But now we have too much off the ground and no space left for hats on our body. So as we move forward into a new year, 2022 is going to be a year of many changes

for the network. But let me be clear. This is important. These are exciting changes, as I have no intention of slowing down the content machine. But I want to make sure that everything we put out is of the highest quality standards for all of our supporters, both our tried and true audio listeners who are the backbone of this company and those who choose to watch our videos as well as we make a foray into doing more video and more experimental things with video. It's a process. All of this is a process. These things take time. And we appreciate all of you who are patient with us as we continue to grow and turn this lemonade stand into a real company. Change is never easy, but if you've

trusted us with your entertainment and hopefully inspirational needs thus far, as I always say, the best truly is yet to come. It's also been a weird year for some people choosing to move on from our content as well. We've lost a number of supporters over the past year as the team and I have expressed our personal values, our support for social justice initiatives, a commitment to inclusion and diversity, and a desire to see everyone who is able to get vaccinated to do so, to try and help end this pandemic, has turned off some of our fans. Now, I'm not here to denigrate anyone. The world's hard enough. Sometimes people need to find their own path to the shared reality we're all living in.

As much as I hate losing money, I want to make it clear, though, I would lose that money ten times over if it meant standing up for what's right. I hate seeing all this division, and I'm certainly not interested in making enemies of our network, like the people who leave us negative reviews on everything that we put out, or wait until the second we release a new video to give it a thumbs down. But, you know, we have an obligation as artists and the public eye to do what's right, and we will continue to use our platform to be a voice for positive change. Now, I'm sure I could be more eloquent sometimes in my assessment of things and the way I speak my thoughts through ball-busting comedy, but that's who I am. I can't help myself. The same guy that makes fun of you seconds after your character died

is the same one that's going to call you a dummy for getting your facts from a meme your aunt posted. That's episode one, Starving Artist Troy, and that's episode 300, CEO Troy. As the giant slayer campaign comes to an end, I really couldn't be more excited for the future of the network and of this show. I'll tell you, though, I need to stop doing State of the Nation announcements

because our business and our industry is evolving and changing so rapidly. Almost everything has changed in one way or another from the plans that I announced just a few months ago. But suffice it to say, GCP 2.0, when it debuts, is going to be a one of a kind experience, a true evolution of everything we've become. And though there will be plenty of changes, the glass cannon that you love is going to be even better. That I promise you. And if you're excited for that, or if you're not, just wait until I announce what GCP 1.5 is going to entail. Folks, if you've been with us since June 16th, 2015, or you've just caught up over the past week, been with us since June 16th, 2015, or you've just caught up over the past week, thank you for everything you do to help us live a dream existence, or a dream existence in the making,

I should say. Please, if you don't already and you are able to, subscribe to our Patreon, patreon.com slash glasscanon, to listen to over 100 hours of exclusive content. Please come see our live shows, like Glass Cannon Live New York over 100 hours of exclusive content. Please come see our live shows like Glass Cannon Live New York happening this Saturday night, October 30th at the Gramercy Theater in downtown New York. Tickets are still available and that show is going to be off the chain. But above all else, be good to each other. Okay? I know I play an asshole on TV and I say inflammatory things usually to get a rise out of people, but the real me, well, the real me is still an asshole, but an asshole with

a heart of gold. I don't know. When I was younger, I wanted to be famous because I felt like I deserved it. In my mind, I was like, I have talent. And I look in like that guy doesn't have talent and he's famous. So I was like, I deserve that. And now as I got older, I was I still crave that that recognition. Not for fame sake, though, or some selfish sense of entitlement. But I really wanted to gain notoriety as a chance to create a life for myself and my, my family, but also to make the world a better place. I really think, you know, we have the opportunity to do that. And whether that's one laugh at a time, hopefully you're about to have a bunch, or one great cool story moment at a time, which hopefully you'll also get to experience soon, or whether it's using our growing influence

to help enact real change in the world. I feel like I'm getting closer to that goal. So I want to truly thank you. Whatever you've done over the years to bring us to this point, I want to thank you for helping me get there. We love you, Nish. We love you so much. Even if you hate us, we love you, Nish. We love you so much. Even if you hate us, we love you. So sit back and enjoy episode 300 of the Glass Cannon podcast, Master and a Brander.

Well, we knew this day would come. Well, we knew this day would come. Maybe not when we started this lemonade stand 19 years ago. But somewhere around 100 or 150, we all knew the day would come when we would release episode 300 of the glass cannon podcast we did it 300 now matthew i just i shouldn't have looked up in my microphone because i looked at your sour ass face and i just have a stand on top of my desk and piss on it are you familiar with the concept of projection i was sitting there watching you being attentive being there as a responsive scene partner and

keeping and you just read into whatever you want to read it was not a neutral face. You were like this. I really wasn't. Sour lip. For those listening at home, which is everybody, he made a face, yes, with a curled lip. I don't even think I can make that face. Look, I shouldn't even have looked up. Everybody else is smiling and looking at you. Sour Sally.

Sour Sally. Sour is one of his beloved Sour Patch Kids. You had too many of those before we started. I'm sorry. I put the wrong combination of Sour Patch Kids in my mouth, and I was just twisting in agony. You have resting patch face. That got you laughing. Skid, how are you feeling?

I feel great. You look great. I feel, thank you. You're always in that spot. You always look like you're always in that spot you always look like you're just happy to be here very happy to be here see that's a face matthew it's a face you can you can learn from i don't even like sour patch kids i don't eat them no do you like any candy yeah i love chocolates chocolate candy yeah anything chocolate if i'm going to be consuming

those calories and inching my way towards diabetes i'm i want it to be chocolate do you buy halloween candy not to give out to the neighborhood kids but to eat yourself uh i sometimes will i'll sometimes buy a giant bag of kit kats ain't nothing wrong with that and then eat them all in two days last year i bought maybe eight different giant bags of candy assuming that everyone was going to just come to our house was our first time uh in a home for halloween i was like i know it's covid but i'm gonna make up a bunch of individual bags that have nine individual bars of candy in each and i i set up a little thing with a pumpkin with a candle in it all the bags of candy laid out so you just had to come by honor system take the candy you want three kids came

and then my wife and i ate nine bags of candy over the holidays oh man well i was gonna say you like i think you forgot and i'm impressed with even those three kids because your house i mean it's a hike literally up a really big hill in the middle of the country and there's no sidewalks and there's no lights there's no outside but there's not a lot of cars and but there's a lot of kids there's all these dead end streets there's kids everywhere we walked around we saw the other kids but they're just there weren't a lot of them i actually came up with this idea my wife thinks i'm crazy because she's like you don't have time to do anything why do you think you should do this i wanted to make like 150 little uh construction paper pumpkins and then ready and then write a letter that's like dear neighborhood my name is troy and my wife and i

moved in a little over a year ago and and we noticed that the Halloween situation here, there's just no, nobody's controlling it, and we'd like to step up and do that. if you want to participate in trick or treat just put this construction paper pumpkin on your mailbox and then we will know that it's a place to come because it used to be like well if the lights on then you get candy but no one goes by that they haven't done that since the 60s there should be an organized uh halloween situation and i wanted to organize it and uh were you also going to add just like a foot like an asterisk and a little note at the end it's just like p.s i asterisk and a little note at the end it's just like ps i don't ever want to talk to any of you i think that'd be understood i have no interest in being involved in neighborhood business at all with the exception of you

stepping up your halloween game right well you know what they mean if they step up the halloween game then maybe i'll go to the ice cream social maybe i'll talk to him while i'm mowing my lawn i say that is the most you thing I have ever heard. So it's based in some sort of like a grievance that no one else seems to share. That's a good start. It requires way more work than necessary. It's slightly out of touch with the Facebook group of it all. I know.

And then it's slightly defensive the whole time. And slightly offensive.'s just like you people don't know what you're doing around here and also like involve some sort of byzantine system that takes way longer to communicate than just talking to each other and bizarrely fetishistic about a holiday yeah it's perfectly encapsulates everything about you but anyone that wants to lure children to their home put this pumpkin out poor choice of words that's not what i meant i'm sorry candy often no it's it's a dead-end road with seven dead ends off of it uh so so that's why the neighborhood needs uh needs someone to control it

oh yeah don't forget the fascism right i don't forget the autocratic tone to all of this i forgot that or yeah i mean forget the fashion my wife and i have realized you need someone to control this i think you said that exact sentence. I don't think that would be an exaggeration. And Sam would be like, don't you bring me into this. Don't mention my name. This is your fascist coup of the neighborhood. I want nothing to do with it.

You could just host a Halloween party and invite your neighbors. Well, you know what? Last year when we did our trick-or- or treating uh and some people had left out stuff uh there was uh not far away a couple of houses that were having a lawn party and all the parents were drinking and there were kids running around it's like that looks fun i wish we got invited but we didn't so why don't you do it well put up a sign that's like lawn party uh hallow come by, grab a beer on the lawn. A block party. And that way you're not controlling them.

You're just offering to start sparking a party and then it goes from there. You know how many of them are going to ask me what I do and how many times I have to try and explain it. It's just not worth it. Say you're into importing, exporting. Yes, that is the thing it's like meeting meeting strange dudes around our age for the first time just random dudes our age within i mean and within five seconds of talking to any given man my age i'm like i don't want to have this conversation you know who loves it and can't get

enough of it joe o'brien oh joe already a new adult man friend every three days i've got a new tennis partner it's fantastic we're playing twice a week i moved to this new part of the neighborhood and uh i've already been to the block party in the back and i've met a bunch of people and it was the same same painful horrendous conversation you know the guy right behind me is a firefighter and a real fucking man that's easy to explain and man when he is like yeah i'm like what are you doing for a living he's like i'm a firefighter i'm like great he's like what are you doing like fuck and then it's like trying to explain i mean he just like matthew has said before when we talked about like our mortgage brokers trying to explain the business of what we do he's like they seem interested to

start and then at a certain point their eyes just sort of glaze over and you're like yeah we've lost them like they have they have no interest in talking about this anymore see this is why i don't want to hang out with you uh why i would never make the trip to jersey because if i just want to come and i want to hang out with you, and I would show up and you'd be like, Oh, you didn't mind I invited my neighbor, the chief of police, my father-in-law, and his mailman. This is Jake, my father-in-law's mailman. God, I just want to hang out with you.

He blew in for the smoke. I was smoking a butt. He blew in for the Colts game on Thursday night football. I'm just going to drive back an hour smoking a butt. It's a little bit of the Colts game. On Thursday night football. I'm just going to drive back an hour and a half. Grumbling, grumbling angrily to myself the entire time. Who invites a father-in-law's mailman? And how does he know the chief of police? Grant's making a lot of new adult friends now.

He's trying. Oh, are they bike friends or race friends? No, he's got an app yeah i i got adult male friend finder i i got advice uh from a friend uh my therapist to uh try to find some friends outside of this very healthy group of people they're always nice to me pre recording and never say anything mean before we get on mic. And I looked into it, and it turns out Bumble has a function called BFF. That sounds nice, right? Best friends forever.

You know, you find someone else, and you swipe left, you swipe right, you try to look for other people that are into cycling. That's what I'm looking for. Turns out a lot of other fellas aren't using BFF for the same purposes. I found out. Turns out a lot of fellas are using it um well surreptitiously maybe they forgot they were in bff mode when they started messaging me i'm not sure uh but i found it a little bit more difficult to find friends for a new reason that i never knew of uh because

of that but well how can we be lovers if we can't be friends that's what i always say it's true did you try craigslist? Craigslist friends? For cycling. You can go to like activity partners. I should just join like a queen cycling club. But what I really want to pre-find out is like, I don't want to meet someone that is either much slower or much faster than me. You know, that's the real danger.

Well, that's the danger that I ran into with tennis as well. Let's get into my tennis situation. So this dude- Wait, I just want to pause and point out that that is the most grant solution to the same there was to a similar problem in the world technology and then optimization i met a guy who was like uh listen i'm really i love biking around prospect park but i don't wear those uh cycling outfits like those weirdos out there and i was like i do and he's like what's your average ride length i'm like 40 miles i can tone it down for you though i promise let's hang out and then we never hung out oh yeah it's tough it's tough and this tennis is the same exact thing

because like you can't play tennis with somebody that is way below you or way above you it is just a miserable experience for both. Nobody has any fun. You know how I solve that. I don't play tennis. You don't play any tennis. Yeah, I know. I used to play tennis. I didn't know you played.

Yeah, I love tennis. Oh, God. You both look like tennis players. Tennis players look fucking great. Thank you for the compliment. Hard on the knees, though. Yeah, if you play well and if you really cover a lot of ground, which I don't. I just sort of like oh you didn't

hit it to me that time all right i'll go pick it up which is why it worked out because this dude also uh not very good at tennis so it's fantastic we're having what is the sport that the most amount of people can get around as a golf and you just have to wait for the person that takes the most shots like is that no no no people no people that are also really good at golf are like they cannot tolerate golf they hate people because they're just slow and it just crushes and because those guys uh and women are used to a rhythm you know they're used to a like you hit you go to your ball you hit again you go you hit again if you're like waiting for somebody it it gets you off your rhythm. So it's like Topgolf and Bowling. Those are the two that you can do. It doesn't matter.

They're not really athletic. Yes, exactly. I don't understand. I have no interest in making any new friends or participating in any of the things that you're talking about. I was at the pharmacy in Tennessee last week. And this guy, he worked maintenance at the red roof inn down the road and uh just started talking to me and i learned about that guy's entire fucking life because i'm too polite to say it's like i'm not interested in your life and he told me everything

well it was like why when you're in the southid, you have to look at someone like that right in the eyes and say, I don't want your life. I don't want your life. Story. You had story. Story. Story. Maybe you dropped the accent for the story. I was at the grocery store a few months ago, and the guy behind me in line had a socks cap on.

And he goes, go socks. I was like, yeah, go socks. And he's like, where are you from?'re from i was like oh we're still going um i was like i grew up in april he's like oh i grew up and blah blah blah and i was like oh yeah cool you know and we started talking a little bit about the socks and it's like good good to meet you give him the uh the covid fist bump and i walked away and i thought about that guy for a while and then i got home and i was like i met a guy at the grocery store he actually seemed really nice and she's like you should ask for his number i'm like i know but i just maybe i'll run into him again and then the next time i went now this is what

you should use preggs was for misconnections misconnections the next time you like you were from hayborough i went to the grocery store with with Archer and we were checking out and he goes, Daddy, where's your friend? And I said, I don't know, son. Daddy doesn't have any friends, son. Perhaps I'll never know. Did I tell you the weird sports thing I sometimes do to people I see on the street? If I see someone who's really nice to me or lets me into like a parking space or is walking

and they're wearing Eagles gear, I'll roll down my window and i'll yell fly eagles fly and they just stare at me like i'm crazy and it's because i never get to live that in my real life i have a double life as an eagles fan to people on the street you gotta say go birds yeah go birds i've always done fly eagles fly. Go birds would make me seem normal. It makes you seem like you're not an alien trying to pose as an eagle. I'm doing the inglorious bastards, like wrong three. Yes, exactly. It's so funny you say that, Troy, because that's exactly what happened to me when I went to this block party. I said to my wife before I left, I said, my goal is to come back here with a man's number.

And I went over there. And tell you i wasn't gonna force it i was like i'm not gonna be a weirdo i just hung out and hung out and at a certain point the guys were like this guy over here would not shut up about playing tennis and i was like oh i play tennis he's like you play tennis here's my number and i was like bam went home home. Same conversation with my wife. How about them apples? Exactly. How you like apples? Put it out to my wife. How you like them apples? Come inside.

It's cold out. I got Ryan's number. That's a tennis name, Ryan. Ryan. Yeah. Friends. Who needs them? Right? I love friends.

Shed some of the ones we have. Baseliner? Because you're not a serving volley man, you're a baseliner? Stop it. This is not a tennis podcast. I'll play any tennis you want to play. I can do both. How about a new Patreon goal?

A live video of the two of you playing a match, what is it called? That would be so terrible. That would be amazing. Grant will be the ball boy and Skid and I will do commentary. You think I get mad when I roll a natural five. Wait and see what happens when I hit a ball just in the top of the net. Who's going to do that? You must have broken so many rackets.

I broke so many rackets in my teenage years. And I even did a couple in my 20s. I was like, this really has to stop. And the racket I have now, I've had for like 10 years. And it doesn't even have a dent in it. But I didn't play for like eight of those years. I want to be the line judge. I want to find a way to get into one of their heads and really make them break another racket.

I want a John McEnroe, Serena Williams type of moment where they just obliterate me. Oh, God. Well, we made it. We made it to 300, and we normally celebrate with champagne, but we didn't get any champagne this time. No, we don't. Well, we do so much day recording.

Yeah, we do. Yeah, this is the first time we've turned to one of these during the day, for sure. It's 1230 on a Tuesday, and Joe and I have started day for sure it's 12 30 on a tuesday and joe and i have have started drinking um because because it's 300 we want to get it out of the way because we're going to drive home later but uh our good friends at wooden legs uh again it was 200 they hooked us up 200 they hooked us up they did it again they have i'm calling them the sponsor of episode 300

of the glass can we gotta get out there that would be oh god would be amazing i followed them on instagram and they post their their both their beers and their food and they both look delicious i just googled wooden legs again without context i just saw a bunch of prosthetics 149.99 for four wooden legs that's not bad that's not bad also the guy from uh single cut came by here single cup brewery in astoria yes gave us some beers recently and and then we just got this beautiful 24 pack that's why we got have somebody that writes down the names of these people yeah it was uh it's john from john from philly i'm just gonna say john from philly you just made that name up i didn't it sounds like it there's probably a lot of johns that are like did i get drunk and send

a 24 pack to the office and our single cup buddy is Brutal Kind on Instagram. Oh, right. That's right. Right down the street, we got this brewery, and we've never gone as a group to go. We used to go a lot when we lived here. Yeah, we used to go all the time. You should ask your new friend from the grocery store to come with you. Go watch a Sox game?

If only, Matthew. He's the one that got away. The one that got away? He was the one that got away. The one that got away. He was the one that got away. That was your sliding doors moment. Oh, man. Also came into a very nice letter from Caitlin, who sent us this amazing red die. A new big red Lucky Die.

It might bust it out in EPP 300. On the 20, it says Crit. And on the 1, it says Shit. That's fun. So yeah, very nice. Thank you so much, Caitlin, and thank you for the kind words. And we do, I feel bad, because we get so many gifts, and we just never

have time to acknowledge them all, but thank you for everyone who sends stuff in. We love it. Yeah, now we're only here once a month, sometimes a little more, sometimes even less with all our touring in September. But you know, in 2022,

hopefully we'll be here a little more frequently because it's just better to play in person. And then someday we'll have a really nice office with cubicles and whatnot. And someone whose job it will be to record all of the lovely gifts we get. And they'll all get thank you notes signed with ink stamps of our penis heads.

What? Jesus. I'm not trying to think of a way to make it personal. That's a little too personal. You'll get an option. Signatures or mushroom stamps. Sorry. It's too early to be foul, but I want to make sure the people who enjoy foul humor

are getting theirs as well. As they deserve it. Who made these little stickers of us? These are great. I see Grant's got his on his computer. I think Skid has his. Oh, yeah. I've got my...

I can't remember. Yeah, these are great. What's just talking about cool stuff people have sent us look at matthew you don't look like that look at that stud oh my god it's got john krasinski's hair the hair is what's real what's really uh makes me sad you look you You look like adjacent to Ezekiel Elliott there. Like you look like a stud running back. Joe is passing out the Pognophilia, which is... Thank you, wooden legs. This is their barrel-aged Imperial Russian stout.

I know what each of those words mean individually. Well, Imperial means high ABV usually. I'm sure it has a better meaning of that so it's strong uh a russian stout i can't remember what makes something a russian stout but barrel age means it was after it was brewed it was aged in barrels sometimes a rum barrel or a wine barrel so it gets that oaky characteristic as well as uh the flavor of whatever liquor or wine was in that barrel. I remember this being crazy smooth for something that sits around, what, 12%? 11 and a half. 11 and a half.

Dude, it's not 12. Relax. Oh, you're right. 11 and a half. Well, cheers to everybody. 300. Thank you for helping us to get here. And we said this

at 200 and 100 to 300 more. Yeah. Yeah. To 300 more of this particular show. Of this campaign. Of this long running campaign. I joked about this on Twitter last week or the week before

that this will be the last like tentpole episode like this that we do. And people are like, but you finally given to Matthew. No, it's just that when the new show starts, it's going to be like episode 316 or 322 of the show. And so episode 100 of the new show could be the 420 something episode we put out it's just not going to make sense anymore do you get what i'm saying joe you're giving me that joe look of uh what's going on i'm going to celebrate every milestone episode but i'm saying a really fun way 100 episodes of the new show could be the 420 something episode of it doesn't matter the whole podcast wasn't

wrong with that, Troy. I don't want you involved in this conversation. I think this would be a great stepping stone for all of you to find milestones of importance wherever you find them. That's the thing. It can be the 400th episode of the Glass Cannon podcast and not be the 100th episode, right? It could be episode 84 or whatever, but it can still be a milestone episode. Well, that's fine.

I don't want to do what I just did and what you guys just did ever again for an episode. It's awesome, but it is. Writing, for me, just generally, it's just so fucking hard. Yeah, me too. It's exhausting. It takes up all my energy and i just like

kill myself even for a page of text and uh it's brutal and every single one of you works incredibly hard you know i want people to know just because i read a lot of this stuff a lot of this is written by the people uh sitting with me uh and it is brilliant stuff. And I asked you to do this on very tight deadlines, and I appreciate it. But my family left town for the weekend, and I couldn't go because I had to work on this. And I'm just, I mean, my ass hurts from sitting and writing and then walking and pacing. So I just don't want to do this again. But I'm excited to do it. I just think when we launch 2.0, things are going to be a little bit different yeah and i am going to be pitching something different i don't think we ever need to do this exact style again

i think that we're going to have something really cool which is something we've done before more or less planned and more organic and i think that it's going to move that in that direction and more breaks yeah well i really enjoyed that break yeah that break. Yeah. That was a nice break. That was a nice break. No, but I think when we play. Oh, my God. I've been asking for breaks in between books for a year. We were sitting at a, we were driving from Chicago to Columbus, the worst drive in my life.

And we stopped at this brewery in somewhere in the middle of Indiana. I mean, I don't even know where we were for lunch. And we're just sitting there eating our sandwiches. And Troy says, I'm thinking about, I i haven't decided yet but i'm thinking about us taking a week off to prepare for episode 300 and i just remember the four of us just kind of looking up from our sandwiches and just like nobody's saying nobody's saying anything because if you're like oh i had that idea i was thinking we should do that immediately be yeah immediate no she's like let him convince himself yeah exactly he has to come to it he'll get there

come on boy come on well i mean honestly it was only just because our schedule was just too intense and i didn't want to rush you don't want the episode to suffer in quality because it's rushed my only regret was not taking i was like oh wow we could have taken off two weeks uh but i think with the next grant is losing his mind grant's been saying this for literally years well the reason i don't want weeks off but you know what the reason we are who we are is because we don't other podcasts take breaks we don't i don't know what makes us shut up that's what makes us the most successful podcast of all podcasts there it is thank you uh the point is we've earned enough street credit and

we produce more content than anybody else that we can take breaks because there's never going to be we're never gonna be taking a full week off where there's no content that we put out there's only a handful of amazing people out there that can and i know some of them personally and they're wonderful they can really keep up weekly yeah yeah but there's only a handful of those very special uh lieutenants i'll call them uh left tenants left tenants but for the most part people have months of stuff they're backed up on that they could be like yeah take some time off i'll catch up it'll be great have some uh mental time for yourself some mental health time uh yeah no i when when when giant slayer, I want to take a year and a half off before the next show. Maybe not a year and a half.

You'll drive yourself crazy. Yeah, yeah. And you are. I said it when I came in today. You are looking pretty rough. You said we started this podcast 19 years ago. And I was like, you two kind of look like we started it 19 years ago. You look like Barack Obama at like year seven of his presidency.

It's been a long weekend. And I don't know if I should be unsupervised like that again. But, you know, in a few short hours or however long this takes, because I have no idea. You can have boats well. Then I can just shift my attention to 800 other projects. But in the meantime, here we are. Are we doing it? We're doing it.

Are we doing it? We're doing it. I'm excited. I'm excited because it's a real special thing for us to have a campaign this long. And I don't know if any of us or certainly not all of us will ever have a campaign that lasts this long again. Do you know what I mean? Yeah, because I don't think the new show will be like this. I don't think we're going to be doing many other shows um with the exception of skids uh patreon content they're going to have these these long campaigns these long stories like this um it's a gift in many ways because the work that we've done over the past a few days and over the

past week has been work that has been inspired by the game that we play like this this this is creative stuff that the five of us have done that has been birthed out of the stories that we play i mean isn't it uh the expanse is it was has it been confirmed that that was created out of their uh their role-playing game i i i'm 99 sure that that's the case even if it's not the case, I've heard that story about other shows before. So maybe it got... Firefly is the same thing. We talked about it for Traveler. So that's the story,

is that the show came out of Joss Whedon's Traveler game. That's where the story came from. So, I mean, it's always been there. We're not breaking new ground. It's just really fun for us because we have an audience that is hopefully interested in this story. So for us to be able to do something creative like this, it's just very exciting. And it's cause for a celebration. So if you've been with us from episode one or you're just starting now and for some reason you started with 300, which is a really dumb idea, I hope you enjoy this.

a really dumb idea um i hope you enjoy this well i i just want to jump in and say too that like we we do this has been built on so much of this you know like what we just what we've been working on is built on us having done this now a handful of times and to me it's getting more and more even more fun because it's, there's so much to work with. There's so much depth to the world and to the story that we've created that it's like, I think for years we could still write scenes. We could have entire seasons of content that are in between moments of this story that were never fully told or fully fleshed out.

There's so much there to be explored and uh i i plan to explore some of it today so i'm very excited by the way i was doing a little re-listening as part of the work on this and i want to credit our really good buddy nicolo with i think officially uh starting the march to 300 because it was in the middle of episode 200 when he sent us a delivery of a widow Jane bottle of bourbon that we called him on a speakerphone. And he's on the episode. I completely forgot this. And in the realist, the last thing he says is the March of 300 starts now. Yes.

I must have consumed a lot of that widow Jane because I've lost all memory of that as well. I had no idea that made it into the show. Yeah. I listened back as well this past weekend. I was like, I forgot that we did that. Yeah. And Nick's like, the March of 300 starts now. And then Troy, you reiterate it in episode 201.

And now here we are. We've made it. Now here we are. And then after today, the March to the End begins, because there will be no episode 400 of giant slayer well there won't be an episode 350 of giant slayer no i don't think so will there be an episode 325 maybe okay maybe all right i don't know there's hope i don't i really don't know i don't want this to end anymore now that i got it back into it i'm like i'm really into this story when you joke when you joke about there being another 300 episodes i was like the march to 600 begins today kids will be in college oh god um yeah it was it was fun listening back because i forget a lot of

stuff and uh you know i joke to you joe's like we need like george rr martin has those assistants that know the story better than he does so they can check him uh i mean you fact check me on something right before we started troy wanted to do a whole scene and i was like we already did that amazing this is why i need uh an assistant but uh i don't know i'm excited uh to to start okay so i'm excited to start. Okay. So I'm going to. Joe, as usual, you have your work cut out for you as the sirenscape DJ, because... This is going to be awful.

Things tend to change pretty quickly. When you change scenes, just describe the location, time of day, weather, and do it slowly. I'll read the stage directions. Exterior, night, pyramid. Thank you. All right, so give me... Sand, wind. stage directions. Exterior, night, pyramid. Thank you. All right, so give me... Sand, wind. No, give me exterior, night.

I'm not going to do this for everyone. Exterior, night, with some wind and a calm sound. Okay. All right. Exterior... You have four seconds to do it. Exterior, night... Oh, God!

You're back! Stress, depression. All right, we got a little night coming in. Oh, that's nice. That's a good job, Joe. Man, let's get a little windalicious. Oh, no, you're such a... Continue.

For a second, I thought it was night in here. Apparently, I deleted wind and have to re-download it yeah too busy playing tennis i knew i was i was gonna regret saying that a little bit of wind nighttime where are we well we're at a place that we're gonna to probably spend a lot of time at today. And time is the key word, because though we will spend a lot of time in this place today, the actual when is all over the place, as this story now spans generations. In this instance, we'll have lights come up on a small shack just outside of True Now. It stands there alone and we see the barter stones in the background. Maybe a couple of stalls still standing.

of stalls still standing. We close in on that shack and we see a single candle burning on a table near the window. The door opens and Silvermane walks in. He walks over to the table, reaches into his robe, and pulls out Galabras' butterfly pendant that was given to him by the ghost of Fabian Blix at Red Lake Fort.

He sits down at his table with the candle, and he stuffs that pendant into an envelope. We've already seen him do this. But then he pulls a piece of parchment and a pen from a nearby desk and begins to compose a letter. And as he does, we close in and see his handwriting scrawl across the page as he writes.

You can hear the voice almost as if it's coming out of his head. And he writes, When the great fire comes, be sure you're wearing this all of your days. And then he looks up at the candle and holds on it for a second. And then a small, sad smile touches his lips. And he just puts a little dash

and writes, an old friend. The candle goes out. And now it's darkness. Night, maybe. But then night turns to day and we see that same town

surrounded by a stout-looking wall, tinged copper from the late afternoon sun. From within we hear the bustle of townsfolk, laughter of children at lessons, and metallic clashes from drilling militiamen. This is true now. A pair of spear-wielding guards stand atop the gatehouse. They're looking out at something in the distance.

A wagon. We can hear it clattering as it slouches into view, dragged by a horse down the dusty northern road. You there! Guard calls out as the wagon pulls to a halt outside the gate. State your business! The hooded figure at the reins barely lifts his head. We are but weary travelers.

We seek respite from the road. Who's we? A second guard emerges from a door in the gate and makes his way to the rear of the wagon. He looks through a barred window at the back and sees a young man, exhausted and close to starving. He will not meet the guard's gaze.

We are no vagrants, the hooded man says. We have coin to spend, you see. He dangles a small coin purse. The guard comes back to the front of the wagon and the hooded man drops the purse into his open hand. The guard weighs it gingerly for a moment. He calls out to the others, let them in. The gate opens, creaking on its hinges and the wagon lurches and pulls inside. Barely noticed by the locals,

the wagon rolls down the main street past ramshackle houses and a stone temple of Iomide. It pulls to a halt outside an inn. A hanging sign above the door reads, Ramble House. The hooded man hops down from his perch with surprising agility and

unlocks the rear doors of the wagon. The young man inside flinches as the doors fly open and light floods the interior. Hands? The youth obediently lifts his hands, revealing shackles tight around his wrists.

Fetch some water for the horse. The hooded man unlocks the shackles and they fall to the floor with a thunk. I must speak with the locals. I know what this is! Know it, Matthew! I can see on your face you have no idea what's happening.

You guys are reading a lot into my face today. The hooded man says, I must speak with the locals, and the contempt in his voice is clear. That last word said with an audible sneer. So the boy grabs a bucket and he makes his way through the streets toward the sound of burbling water. Each step is measured.

Careful. Mustn't stumble. Mustn't fall. Don't draw attention. Do as he says and perhaps there'll be some food. Perhaps he won't hurt me tonight. Hello? A voice from behind.

He turns with a start to see a young girl, maybe ten or eleven years old. What's your name? The girl looks at him with such kindness that for a moment he's utterly dumbstruck. Mine's Ruby. Galabras.

My name's Galabras. Nice to meet you, Galabras, she says sweetly. As she sees him swaying, she becomes concerned. Are you all right? Yes, I'm fine. Thank you. I just need some water.

He turns back to the spring, dipping his bucket into the cool water. As he does, his sleeve slips and reveals ugly bruises around his wrists. Ruby edges closer. Did you hurt your arm? It's nothing. I'm fine. I have to get back. He tries to lift the bucket and his knees buckle, nearly collapsing to the ground. Ruby gasps and darts forward, steadying him and helping him to a seat on the rim of the spring. Wait here. I'll be back.

She runs away. Calabrus sits, his head swimming. He tries to will himself to his feet. Maybe there's still a chance he can get back before there's trouble, but he's so weak, so tired, so very, very tired. Maybe he should just close his eyes and fall back into the water. Let it take him. Then this might all be over.

Is this him? Another voice. A weathered, stout woman in armor. Ruby nods. The woman looks Galabras up and down. What is your business in Trudau, young man?

Just traveling. Just passing through. He rises. I have to get back. Just passing through. He rises. I have to get back. Just passing through, hmm? She sees his drawn face, sees him shivering even in the famous Belkson heat. She lifts his sleeves and sees the yellowing bruises where the manacles crushed his skin, her eyes narrow. Who brought you here? There's a man in a hood.

He brought him, Ruby volunteers. I saw him over by the inn, talking to the halflings. Is that so? She looks up and sees a pair of officers standing nearby. Roderick, cursed, on me. Let's have a word with this fellow. Galabras sputters and protests. No, no, it's fine.

Please, I just have to... It's all right, Galabras. Ruby whispers, slipping her little hand into his. Mommy's gonna help you. Mommy is a badass. Stranger! Calgra of the blackened blade's voice rings out. Clear as a warning bell through the dusty square.

And all fall silent as she shouts towards the robed man. What is the meaning of this? She points to Calabras. What have you done to this person? Well, he is not quite himself, but not to worry. The robed man slowly turns to face her. I am simply taking himself to reunite the boy with his family. He is my responsibility. with his family. He is my responsibility.

Here's what I think. The chief defender strides towards him as she speaks. I think you've been denying this man food. I think you've been keeping him in restraints. I think you're a slaver. She stops inches from his face, fists on her hips. And I'm not sure if you're aware, but chattel slavery is strictly forbidden within the jurisdiction of True Now. This isn't Urgeir, Haugra clenches her teeth.

There are rules here. The hooded man, inches away from her, smiles. her teeth. There are rules here. The hooded man inches away from her, smiles. Local customs do vary, don't they? Oh! That's awful.

Oh! Oh, I wish she slid his throat right then! The second he said that! Splat! Splat! Splat! Spl then! The second he said that! They do. So here's my offer. You hop back on that cart and get on out of here

just as fast as that nag can carry you. And you renounce any claim you have on this man. Or else I take you into custody right here and throw you in fucking jail. A momentary flash of rage crosses the man's face for a moment, but it is soon replaced by his customary half-grin. Rules should be obeyed, of course, and I do abhor violence. I hereby accept your gracious offer. After a sweeping bow, he pulls himself back into his driver's seat, but before

he goes, he fixes his gaze on Calabrus's face. He lifts his hands to his forehead in an A-OK salute. Be seeing you. Oh, man. With a snap of his reins, he rattles away. Halger watches the hooded man until the gate doors shut behind him. Get this man some food. She turns to leave. I want to talk to whoever is on gate duty today.

A dark-haired woman approaches with a warm smile. Ruby, who is your friend here? Ruby looks up at him. His name's Galabras. I think he's hungry. Is that right? Would you like some food? Galabras, I think he's hungry. Is that right? Would you like some food?

Galabras weakly lifts his eyes to her. Yes, I would. Thank you, my lady. The woman smiles again. My name is Tayari Valdeiros. I'll take care of you. Come, Ruby. Let's get our new friend

some dinner. They each take a hand and lead him in the direction of the sanctuary. Don't worry, Galapros. She gives his hand a little squeeze. You're home now. As they walk in the direction of the sanctuary,

everything gets blurry, starts to blot out, until we just see dirt. And in the dirt, we see footsteps trudging through red dirt, defiant, indignant. Then they stop. His feet belong to a young woman, a young woman with wild, unkempt hair. A young woman named Gormley maybe you've heard of her wait has she ever had a scene written in in one of these episodes i don't think she ever has no i don't think so either not one of these she's had flashbacks but not her face twists wrestling with a decision she gives in and

looks back and behind her stands a small town surrounded by a wall a wall segmented by crenellated towers true now she looks back, squints. Yes, there, standing on one of the towers is a young man. He's not as tall or even as handsome as the other men in town, but he was always charming. Too charming. Maybe something in Gormley's expression changes. Is it regret? Is it guilt?

Is it shame? But eventually her face sets, and she raises a single middle finger. Holds it up defiantly in Kesson's direction, and turns away from the town And resumes her trek Towards the mountains of Belkson We move forward in time

In a narrow pass in the mountains Gormley kneels in front of a small pile of branches Working a flint To start a fire for herself She tries and tries But just can't produce a spark. Eventually she gives up and settles back against the outcropping, shivering in the cold of the night. Now we see Gormley again, running, chasing after a rabbit,

a crude spear in her hand. She's agile, nimble on her feet, diving and ducking through this wooded area beneath the tree line. The rabbit pauses. Gormley hurls the spear in its direction, but it misses, clattering off the rocky ground, and the rabbit scurries away. Night has fallen. Again, Gormley sits in front of an unlit fire Shivering against the frigid wind Now, as a storm rages above Pouring rain down on her

Gormley makes her way Across the craggy, belxin terrain You're doing great, Joe God damn it Matthew, could you take a few more sentences to explain this stuff? It has to always be so efficient. Suddenly. With your writing?

A marching band and three volcanoes. Lava rolls past a high school marching band. A cannon fire. Three salutes of the cannon fire. It's 12 o'clock. The cannon fire is 11 more times. The unmistakable sound of the North American emu. The company of Russian T-47 tanks comes rolling on its treads.

Across a road made of marbles. And then a chorus of crickets begins to cry. Oh my god, the tanks really got me. Rolling over the marching band. So Gormley makes her way across the craggy belts and terrain.

She's terribly thin, freezing, but still defiant. Then one of her feet slips and she tumbles down a small incline, her body bouncing against the jagged rocks. She comes to stop in a tiny fissure. Hissing in pain, she looks up and sees the mouth of a small cave before her.

Clutching her side, Gormley limps toward the cave. And once she's inside, she discovers that this must have been some kind of cash from long, long ago. This is a suitcase full of cash. This looks like it's from long, long ago. Unmarked $100 bills. Lines table.

Fucking sweet. The weathered bones of D.B. Cooper lie beside. This must be some kind of cache. The cave is lined with ancient objects near the cache. Rusty swords, ancient artifacts, and cold, hard cache. Most of it has wasted away to time except for one thing. Wrapped in an oil cloth is a thick leather bound tome. Curious, Cormley unwraps the cloth and opens up the book.

and opens up the book. Inside are a series of incantations written in a language that Gormley finds surprisingly that she understands. And that voice inside of her, that voice she's been hearing and trying to deny ever since she was 11 or 12, that voice that caused her exile from her home suddenly seems to

snap into focus. This, she understands, is a spellbook. But as she starts to leaf through it, she suddenly hears a sound. She jumps up, but what emerges out from behind the trove of ancient artifacts is a

small, green sting scorpion. Oh. out from behind the trove of ancient artifacts is a small green sting scorpion. Gormley tilts her head to the side, interested. The scorpion regards her, and suddenly that voice within her grows louder, clearer,

letting her know that the scorpion is a friend another voice as if from the scorpion itself echoes in Gormley's mind three grand slams three Gormley's fingers start to tingle she finds herself reaching toward the scorpion and as she does it's as if

her mind, her hands, the voice, all align in a common purpose and silvery strands of light leap from her fingers and dance their way up to the ceiling, illuminating the cave. Gormley looks up at the magic she's just produced.

Nothing like she's done before. This is focused, purposeful, right. She turns her hand over, lowers it, and the scorpion skitters under her hand. And for the first time in weeks, she feels warm. Now we see Gormley studying the spellbook. With the scorpion's help, she's able to focus her energies,

produce a spark from her fingers, make objects glow, create potable water, even heal the wounds in her side. She finds a whole network of caves in the area, all full of fascinating ancient treasures, their purposes and design unknown to her. She explores them, her eyes lighting up at the evidence of a civilization that predates even her knowledge of history. She's able to hunt, eat. Her strength returns.

Her power grows. Time has passed. Gormley darts through the mountainous woods, now much like the Gormley we knew. Middle-aged, streaks of gray through her wild hair, hardened by the years out in these mountains. She is running because behind her, a patrol of orcs shouts and curses. Arrows fly past her, whistling through the air. Howie ducks into the folds of her robe. In Gormley's hands, the spellbook.

She whirls about, snaps her fingers, and a spark flies out. It strikes the husk of a dead tree. The tree explodes into flame and comes crashing down atop the orcs who dive out of the way. Gormley ducks down a different pass and out of danger. For now. Gormley now sits high up in a tree.

Watching below as more orcs ransack her beloved caves. Throw the ancient rusted artifacts to the ground. They shatter, break, burn the cash. No!

Gormley's face sets into a look of pure fur. Furries. No! No! No! Gormley's face sets into a look of pure fury. Not furry.

Gormley's boots now stand in the reddish loam before a walled city. A hill within. The city has grown. But it's still the same place she left more than two decades earlier. True now. Closing her eyes, she makes her way back toward the city she abandoned so many years ago. So many years ago. And we fade out of there.

And lights come up again on the kitchen of a quaint subterranean home. You have that sound set, right, Joe? Damn it. Quaint subterranean home. Subterranean kitchen. Hold on. it quaint subterranean kitchen hold on kitchen not the study i know you you like to play the quaint subterranean home study sound set this would be the kitchen how about a coffin maker shop that'll suffice as long as it's fucking quaint i'm just a simple coffin maker. Business is slow.

We see this kitchen in this quaint subterranean home. A wrought iron candelabra hangs over a kitchen table, shedding barely enough light to eat by. Unfinished meals sit about the table, just visible in the dim light. We pull back from the table to see the light falling gently

on the rosy cheeks of Baron's adoptive father and mother whose faces rest gently atop their entree of a wild boar. Mom?

Dad? I'm sorry. It just had to be this way. It had to. Baron stands up from his chair, folds his napkin neatly, and steps away from the unfortunate scene. A peculiar sense of cowardice and betrayal

intermingled with bravery fills Baron's heart. After snatching the keys from his father's belt, Baron hurriedly follows waypoints of light down a corridor to the Red Heart family armory. Hold on a second. Can we just slow down? And people might forget this kind of stuff. When did we last leave the scene?

No, this scene was probably like 175 maybe. No, no. I'm saying when in the scene. So did they go? Did we saw them in their faces and their food, right? And that was the end of the scene. So this is picking up like right where And that was the end of the scene. So this is picking up like right where we left off.

We saw the armory. We saw that. Oh, we did. Okay. So I'm steel, the guns, and we see it again. Now he gets outfitted in a flash duster hat, holster, pistol, a bag full of gear he and his dad would use on hunts. He looks back into his home, onto his family, for the last time in his life.

Clutching a prayer ring in his beard, he mutters, Torak, forgive me for my transgressions. May your forge guide me back into your grand plan. You have to understand, the dwarven settlements within the Five Kings Mountains were fortresses. Militarization was necessitated by the savage, cruel land surrounding the dwarves, hostile ever since they ended their quest for sky. Fortresses like these excel at protecting those inside and keeping enemies out.

They do not excel at keeping inhabitants inside. Particularly those as skilled as Baron. So we see Baron slipping through the gates, using the sewers, timing his movements to counter the night watch until the route leads to a clearing on the northern edge of the mountain range. It's chilly out, enough to condense the moisture in Baron's breath into small, misty clouds as he exhales. Baron fixes his attention on the stables at the end of the ranch in the clearing below. and fixes his attention on the stables at the end of the ranch in the clearing below.

He kicks his leg over the oak fencing, slipping spurs onto his boots as he advances towards the stables. He never moved with so much purpose. Purpose of his own making. Tonight was the beginning of a new life, even if he had to betray his parents and steal from his friends. So Baron approaches a beautiful, strong-looking horse toward the back of these stables,

a black and white Appaloosa coat, nearly solid black at the front and white with ebony spots on her hindquarters. She doesn't winnie because she recognizes Baron. He pats her along the mane. Hi, Glimmer. There, girl. There, girl. It's okay. You're doing good. Let's go easy now. Baron begins to lay down a blanket and buckle the saddle in place when he hears a

whispering voice clear and calm and cold behind him. What are you doing out here, Baron? What gave you the notion that you were welcome here after hours? A young adult dwarf,

wiry and slim for his ancestry, stands outside of Glimmer's box stall gate. Tarek, look. It's not like it seems. I can explain. I would love that explanation, Baron. Because it sure seems to me like you're stealing my favorite pony. Oh, God. I can see that now. I suppose that I am. I am stealing your favorite pony. Tarek draws a pitchfork from the barn wall and points it at Baron.

That ain't something I can abide by, Redheart or not. Now you put those reins down and come with me before I call the guard. Whoa, whoa, whoa, Tarek, Tarek. It's me, Baron. We've been thick as thieves since either of us could walk. Let's not sully our friendship with legal intervention. You know I hate the law.

Baron Rafe. You know I hate the law. Oh my god. Classic. Awesome. Classic. Policeman journey. That's awesome.

He raises his hands like he's surrendering, but as he does so, he pulls his duster up and away, and the Red Heart family pistol is now clearly visible on his hip. Tarek sees that and takes a long, shivering breath. I see you're well-equipped for horse-thieving, old friend. Baron follows Tarek's gaze to the holster at his right hip, then sighs. It's not like that. I wanted to steal it quietly on my lonesome.

I fail to see how that is much of an improvement. No, that's... I don't mean it like that. Listen to me. Do you remember old Barley? Of course I remember old Barley. He just died. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to bring that up. Well, I did mean to bring it up. I just, I didn't want to hurt your feelings when I did.

Well, you got a funny way of doing things, mister. I know I do. Just listen. Now, you took Barley out on his last ride. Under the stars, just like tonight. You told me you did, even though your daddy told you not to, because you'd ride him to death. Charlie out on his last ride. Under the stars just like tonight. You told me you did even though your daddy told you not to because you'd ride him to death. You told me you had to take him out one last time

before he couldn't call this world home anymore. A single tear trickles down Tarek's face. That's right. He was cooped up in the stables too much Daddy didn't let him run like he wanted I just thought that one last ride would Give him what he'd been missing What he deserved

And it did You said he was happier than a pig in slop after that ride Yeah, but the next morning he was happier than a pig in slop after that ride. Yeah, but the next morning he was dead. Tarek, I have to leave before that happens to me. I can't live under this mountain anymore. Don't you see? The old friends share one last glance.

Then Baron saddles up and trots to the entrance to the ranch as Tarek slowly follows. Listen, when my parents wake up, tell them I miss them. I'll miss you too, Tarek. Where are you heading anyway? Something ain't right. I'm off to see if

anyone else needs help moving on. Yeah. And with a kick of his spurs, Baron heads north with glimmer. Unknowingly. Toward the holds of Belkson.

I wish we had more Baron a horse. Mounted Baron during this adventure. Did we really do much Mounted Baron? No. We did none. Have we seen Glimmer? Did we ever see Glimmer? Glimmer died in episode zero.

Yeah. Off stage. They killed him as soon as he got to the gates. It turned out he slit Glimmer's throat and sold the meat for a place at the Ramble House. It is such an absolutely monumental journey from the northern range of the Five Kings Mountains to where the whole of Belksinar. That, like, totally could have seen the horse dying, could have seen it being sold. Episode 325? 325.

Can we see? Can we describe the journey from the five king i was thinking 313 since we're not doing round numbers anymore does that work 313 works for me yeah i could see it like stallone selling his dog to make rocky and then he bought the dog back later maybe you can find maybe you had to sell your your your pony i just love the scene of like you're used to seeing these huge stallions and human stables and just seeing this stable of ponies appropriately sized for dwarves. Yeah. I wanted to revisit that story ever since I told it when we were talking about whether or not we wanted to resurrect Lork again.

That was the Taric I referenced in there who rode his horse until it died. And that was Baron's argument in a humane way against like resurrecting Lork again and a huge reveal the parents are not dead yes not quite dead thankfully

not a murderer I do like that line just a filthy thief to be fair Baron has has uh killed a lot well not a kin slayer it's true yes that would be way way worse you know i hate the law touch of law that's great that's awesome apparently there's a moment in the the share musical i never got to see it but people were telling a teacher told me about it that uh there's a moment when she's married to greg Allman and there's a scene where he offers her cocaine or something

and she's like you know I don't take drugs apparently it was amazing well from there has barren glimmer right off into the moonlit night. Now we fade up on a rainy, moonless night. Drops of light rain smatter against a collection of imposing, familiar-looking, colossal stones and trickle down to fill a myriad of puddles amongst the muddy ruts of the flat open ground beneath like a thousand tiny little lakes a brief flash of lightning

sets the stones to blackness and lights up the walls and buildings of a town built in the shadows of these monstrous ancient rocks. The town is easily recognized even as the clouds hide the moon and stars above. It is true now. And outside her walls, we recognize the barter stones.

Timeless formations below which the open market of a thriving frontier town is hosted. It was here that Lork would be thrown from a catapult and should have died. But he did not. Thrown from a catapult. And should have died. But. He did not. Not that time. Not that time. Yet. Several other times.

Not that way. I've been dead before. Yes, I've been dead before. I've been dead before. As distant thunder rolls lazily overhead, not unlike Joe's sirenscape work, we see a single crow perched upon the largest of the barter stones, standing still and eyeing the town. It takes flight, and we follow it

over undamaged and even new-looking crenellated towers where men with long spears stand guard against the wilds to the north. The crow glides past the ramble house and clamor the sanctuary in the inner quarter before coming to rest again on the edge of a straw roof

overlooking a tiny alleyway between two long houses. The alley is cloaked in darkness and quiet except for a muffled conversation, the specifics of which are lost amid the distant thunder and persistent rain. lost amid the distant thunder and persistent rain. We float past the bird, and our view continues floating down into the alley where we barely make out the form of two small humanoid shapes. They look like little more than children. Though we can't hear the words that are spoken,

we hear in the strain of their voices and see through the sharp movements of their body language that tensions are rising in argument, in hushed tones. Suddenly, one of the creatures strikes the other in the gut, hard enough to put the small creature down to a knee. Next, we see the attacker, whose back is to us, bring a hard right across the injured one's face, and the body collapses into the mud. Lightning flashes, and for a brief moment, we see the fallen creature is a human boy. A little more than maybe 10 or 11 years old, with the unmistakable features of one descended from Osirian parents.

The attacker then leaps on the fallen boy in the darkness and grips its hands around the boy's neck. Our view moves close and we hear the sounds of the boy struggling against the attack, kicking the mud and trying to call out, but muted by the grip on his throat. As we come to the other side of the skirmish, thunder crashes above and a new lightning strike hits at the same time, lighting up the

attacker's face. We see another boy, but this one is bigger, stronger and maybe a little older. His features reveal a mixed heritage of human and orc. It's a very young lork iron tusk. We close in on his face and only his face as he struggles to maintain the grip on the wet, thrashing boy. struggles to maintain the grip on the wet, thrashing boy.

His bloodshot half-orc eyes show desperation and hunger, fear and hatred, pleasure and crushing sadness all at the same time. Lork holds the grip strong for a long

time, painfully long, until the boy is no longer moving at all. Lork releases his vice grip and slowly looks up, new emotions flooding into his eyes, doubt and panic. He quickly stands up

and looks to see if anyone is watching, if anyone saw, but the alley appears empty and the cover of darkness welcome. He runs down the alley and disappears around a corner. From above, the crow swoops down to examine the fresh kill. Blackout. Blackout.

ever since you mentioned that that's what you did i've always wanted to see that scene as sick as it is and the funny thing is is i i mentioned it as um he bragged about it as um he bragged about it to targ oh that's right that was on the boat when you first revealed that yeah he bragged about it to targ and said if you ever mess with us like i'll kill you i've done it before and then he confessed that how much his feelings changed about it in retrospect to how much his feelings changed about it in retrospect to Calabris, unconscious Calabris. Yeah, that's right. It's interesting to me how it can change over time, his memory of that moment.

Well, now the sound of rain and thunder and lightning subsides, and we hear a new sound take its place, footsteps echoing on what soundswell cut into a white stone wall. The stairwell rises up from where we stand and curves out of sight so that the person walking down isn't yet visible. The footfalls grow louder until a black-haired, middle-aged woman in a purple and black dress rounds the final turn and steps into view. Her piercing blue eyes are set with purpose. In her left hand, she holds a scroll and upon her left shoulder,

perched on a leather shoulder strap, stands an impressive owl. Around her neck hangs an amulet in the shape of a butterfly. She walks toward us and passes our view, and we turn to see her from behind as she walks along a handful of prison cells, cells that we have all become quite familiar with over

the years. Now, though, they look newly built. ears. Now, though, they look newly built. She turns slowly to face the cell and speaks. It is time, child. We move closer to her and turn to look into the cell, and we see young Lork sitting on a wooden pallet meant to be a bed. He sits with his elbows on his knees and his head in his hands. He's wearing little more than brown rags. And while he looked much larger than the boy in the alley next to the priestess, in this light, he appears to be exactly what he is.

A child, lost and alone in the world. He stands without a word and moves to the cell bars. I'm sorry, she says, looking into the boy's eyes. She turns and walks back to the stairs. Gods? Her voice back to the stairs. Gods? Her voice echoes along the hallway. Now we cut to another familiar scene. Housed within the polished white stone walls of the ivory hall is the main chamber of Trunau's Council of Defenders,

of True Now's Council of Defenders, the governing body that oversees the safety and security of this border town. While the room is familiar to all of us and to all of us listening, the counselors are not. Arrayed around the bench are faces we do not really recognize. In the center, where we once saw Chief Defender Halgra of the Blackened Blades,

there sits an imposing, stern-faced human man. Flanking him, seated to his left and right along the table, are various members of the council. Nearly all human men, except for one male dwarf and the female human priestess that we saw in the dungeon only a moment ago. The room is deathly quiet. The counselors all look down as before them stands a manacled half-orc boy. Nearly a man, but not quite yet. He is malnourished and in this setting looks even younger than

his fourteen years. The chief defender looks at him and speaks. Do you know who I am, child? look just keeps his eyes to the ground and shakes his head no i am the chief defender of this town of true now it is my duty to protect the city from all threats those outside the walls as well as those within

alone as we are this close to the holds of there can be no doubt that every man woman and child housed within her walls can be trusted to protect each other should the unthinkable happen. All of True Now's citizens must be able to trust every other citizen with their life. That is why crimes such as yours cannot be given the gift

of apathy. To allow crimes like yours to fester through inaction will mean the end of this beacon of civilization in the wastelands of Belkson. He adjusts himself

in his chair. Lork of the Eastern Marches You stand accused of murder We, the council, have reviewed the evidence And return you to this chamber now For the reading of the verdict Before I do so Do you have anything to say for yourself? Lork and Joe just stare at me and this man.

Hatred and fear burning in both of their eyes. So appropriate. I wonder if you'd mention that. How dare you make fun of Dennis? And they both slowly, slowly shake their head. No. Very well, then. The Council of Defenders finds you guilty of the crime of murder.

The other council members murmur to each other. Maybe they didn't vote murder. The town charter, of course, calls for a council such as ours to each other. Maybe they didn't vote murder. The town charter, of course, calls for a council such as ours to determine the guilt or innocence of an accused citizen, but the sentence is determined by the

chief defender. After careful consideration and despite the protestations of the high priestess, among others, that clemency be granted due to your age and station, it is my belief that a person of your age knows the consequences of their actions, and you acted deliberately to destroy a life within these walls. Dom, no, the priestess says,

quietly turning to him in alarm. He brushes her off and continues, evil of that caliber will not be given clemency on my watch. I hereby sentence you to death by hanging. Whoa, there's some talk in the room. You see a priest of Abadar who's sitting on the council, smiling. A dwarf counselor, Eamon Stagenstar, actually.

Oh. He jumps from his chair and turns to Dom Exposition. And says, are you mad? He's a child! You're a father yourself! Why, you even let your son sit in the corner during this trial because you couldn't find a baby sucker. Sure enough, in the corner of the room, there's a four-year-old boy in a

blue seersucker suit. He's just writing on the walls with a crayon. Hi! I'm a child! Even I know murder is bad. Even I know murder is bad! Even I know murder is bad! Continues drawing on the walls.

He did it! I know he did it! I know everything! I saw it all! It's the young Sheldon of the Glass Cannon universe. He's drawing a map on the wall and there's dollar signs everywhere it's very strange

dollar signs that are crossed out with more dollar signs the patrol captain Torvald Grath rises and reluctantly commands his guards to take the prisoner away.

The guards grab Lork by the arms and shove him out the door in the direction of the dungeons. As the doors open to push Lork out, an earth-shaking crash of thunder fills the room. Instinctively, everyone in the room drops low to the ground, covering their head and protecting their ears. Save one. Near the back of the chamber, an old, white-haired elf in a black hooded cloak lowers his hands and stares intently at the chief defender. In the silence, Dom Exposition locks eyes with the elf and says, Silvermane, what is the meaning of this? Slowly, deliberately, the old elf walks toward the table and stops where Lork stood only a moment before.

He turns to the High Priestess and begins speaking to her in sign language. She translates. He humbly asks that you reconsider and spare the boy. Dom Exposition looks at him intently and seems to give great weight to Silvermane, taking interest in the situation. Silvermane rarely interferes in town business, but when he does, his counsel is always wise. I considered all ends, Silvermane, and made a decision. We have no prison to hold the boy, and Torvald will not conscript him into the city guard. It is a mercy, Silvermane.

The boy, the young man, is hopeless. He has no future here or anywhere. The High Priestess speaks up. And now you predict the future? No. That is your realm, High Priestess. I don't predict anything. I merely try to keep our options open. Killing the boy merely destroys a bridge instead of building one.

One less path to take over the treacherous waters ahead. Your riddles will not help us here. This is a legal matter. Silvermane, this is a legal matter, not an ethical one. This boy was accused of murder. eyewitness not tom someone else although tom has been saying he saw it someone else four-year-old stance here an oaf he spoke he spake i have here an affidavit written in crayon. An eyewitness confirmed the entire event in great detail. My hands are tied.

I cannot simply let him walk free. He would be killed within a week by the mob outside and will be back in here trying another murderer. The high priestess translates for Silvermane once again as he's speaking to her. He says there is another way. The tenants of Lastwall still govern True Now's council, he says, and according to those laws, a prisoner found guilty of any crime, even murder, can agree to service in the Black Arrows of the Storville Plateau rather than imprisonment or death. He says that law can be invoked here.

Dominic looks to her and to Silvermane, but then he's just going to be someone else's problem. Predicting the future again, Chief Defender? The priestess is translating that from Silvermane, and she continues to do so. He says, I do not claim to know how events will play out, but I have a strong feeling that the boy is on a journey, as are we all.

But his journey will touch the lives of all of us. You. Me. Every person in this town. If we snuff out his flame too soon, we could bring doom to Trunau. I cannot explain it, but I feel just the same. Let the boy join the Black Arrows.

He'll be hundreds of miles away. He won't cause this town any trouble. But one day, he may return. When? As you say, the unthinkable happens. Dominic considers all of this. Your wisdom, as always, is appreciated, Silvermane. I will speak with the rest of the council and perhaps reconsider.

I can't promise anything. I certainly can't promise the Black Arrows would even take him. But we will try. That is all he asks. Torval, clear this room. Torval, Grath calls to the rear of the room, where a young Paul Giamatti stands guard. Jagrin, stay with the boy.

Make sure no harm comes to him. Jagrin salutes his father and walks away with Lork and the other guards. Silvermane exits the ivory hall and makes his way down to the Hope Spring. Standing beside its cleansing waters, he looks at his reflection and a great weight seems to settle on his shoulders. He breathes slowly, methodically, and thinks of all the death he has seen and all the death he has yet to see. But still, he feels he has the advantage. He remains hidden from the enemy, and he will stay in the shadows

of true now, until the time is right. He takes one last look at himself, and then looks to the sky. The air shimmers around him, bending his form and space, to briefly give the sense of him being there and not there all at the same time. But before we can even process this paradox, the old elf completes his wild shape into an inky black crow. He swoops above the rooftops

and lands once more on the ancient barter stones, keeping watch on the people barter stones. Keeping watch on the people of True Now. Peek-a-boo! Peek-a-boo! It poops along the way. The weird thing the director did.

On a young Omas head. On a young Omas head. And that's why he turned to the bottle. Yeah. I am the unluckiest man alive. That was the last fucking straw. Here's a goddamn whiskey. Silvermaid really is crafting all these events.

Drove Omas to drink. Give me a sign that I should start drinking. All right. I'm going to should stop. All right. I'm going to clamber. Oh, man. Well, I think it's time to round out this story here with one more little glimpse of something we've talked about, but really haven't seen how it all went down. Any dark tunnel music? Lincoln, Lincoln or Holland?

Holland. Midtown. Midtown. If you have a tunnel, that'd be Holland. Midtown. Midtown. If you have a midtown tunnel, that'd be great. Midtown just got renovated. It's beautiful. That's not dark.

What are you looking for? Holland. Definitely Holland. Okay. Dear. Give me that tunnel sound set. Ooh. Actually, that?

Oh, no. That's Ted Williams. That's the Ted Williams. Oh, wow. Skip's Ted Williams. That's the Ted Williams. Oh, wow. Oh, man. Skid put a finger to it. To reflect on himself. Oh, God.

I'm definitely getting Ted Williams. The way that he drops fully into the boat. I know that. I know that's Ted Williams. No, that was good. Keep that. Sounds great. Do more of that. That's our classic cave sound.

I know. It literally, it just shut off for no reason. I didn't mean to. Well, it's really distracting when you do that. It's back. So sorry. That's some good tunnel music. We hear this sound before we see anything.

And then our eyes come up on it. I can only think of things in like cinematic terms you know like a david lynch shot that just goes too slow yeah yeah and you're just like something's gonna jump out something horrible's gonna happen it's that going up this tunnel just winding our way to a dark tunnel back to the dumpster back to the dumpster oh. Somebody passes out. No! No! As we wind our way through these tunnels, a faint light can be seen in the distance. So we walk toward that light.

And as we do, we start to hear sounds. Sounds of movement of large creatures huffing and puffing as they climb their way through this tunnel that eventually opens into a massive circular chamber with an altar at the back. Behind the altar, a large hole in the wall opens out to the sky with a small platform extending out into nothingness. Taking up the majority of the space are the remnants of an enormous dragon's skeleton. Oh, yes. I know this place.

Man. Wait, where are we? This is in the volcano. This is like the last... Smash Peak. Yeah. Queen Quivixia enters. Holy shit! First followed by two fire giant guards,

each carrying a small creature in their arms. Looks like they're carrying a bundle of firewood. The creatures are bound and gagged, tied at the feet and hands. Quivixia directs the guards to put the

bodies down near the altar. And as they do, we see the battered and fearful faces of Jimmer and Quivixia. Yes! Are they breathing? They're both dead.

Man, what an anticlimactic scene. And we're all dead. Alright. Now it's confirmed. They are both dead. It's just Jimmer's left arm and Thune's head. I'm... You joke,

but I'm incredibly nervous because they haven't been killed on screen yet. So they could still be alive at the end of the scene. They could be gone. Yeah. So I am on pins and needles waiting to see how this scene plays out. And you're not wrong because it's metagaming in a way. because it's metagaming in a way, but I'm very nervous because I think Troy's just trying to close storylines. He doesn't have to deal with them anymore.

Yeah. That's what I'm really nervous about. Everything must go. I've got a list, and I have to close certain things. You can't close Jimmick! Oh, God, it's a fire! Without a fight. You can't close Jimmick without a fight. Oh, God's a fire! Without a fight. You can't close Jimmer without a fight! Oh god,

the flames! I agree it's a conundrum, because you can't close Jimmer without a fight, but you also can't kill Jimmer in a fight. So it's a really tough situation. The only way you can do it is in a cutscene. You build a character so strong your GM can only beat him in a cutscene.

I'm sure I wouldn't be the first. I'm sure I wouldn't be the first. I'm sure I wouldn't be the first. Well, we do see the faces of Jimmer and Thune. We have not seen them for quite a while. A year. Over a year. Pre-COVID. Quivixia buzzes about the chamber and she's lighting several candles.

And these small lights cast an enormous shimmering shadow of the dragon's bones on the wall that makes it look like there's a colossal undead dragon skulking about in the shadows. As she finishes, she waves the guards away, but the guards look to her and look to Jimmer and Thune. Waves the guards away, but the guards look to her and look to Jimmer and Thune. And in giant, they say to her, My lady, they are tied up, but the one-eyed one is quite strong. We should stay. She's preoccupied and half listening, but she snaps at them. The gods and the oracle will protect me. Leave us.

They bow to their queen, look at each other other and then Turn to walk down the tunnel Quivixia turns and Walks solemnly toward the altar She pulls a piece of paper out of her robes And holds it over one of the candle flames It catches and burns in an instant She then takes the ashes collected below and rubs them all over her face

to make this ash mask and then kneels before the altar. Great Oracle of the Mountain, we have captured these warriors that you spoke to us of. The warriors whose stories we have painted, whose likenesses we have sculpted in our halls. I have brought the two that you requested here as an offering. My king said the others must be made to pay for their crimes,

to let our clans know that no enemies to our cause will be allowed to live. I hope you can understand. May your wisdom ever guide us, and may you continue to be the compass of my soul. She closes her eyes and waits. Waits maybe for a response. Waits a little too long. Here's nothing.

So she bows her head and just walks backward out of the room. When she reaches the entrance to the tunnel, she quickly turns and disappears of the room. When she reaches the entrance to the tunnel, she quickly turns and disappears into the darkness. Jimmer and Thune both look badly beaten, but healed up just enough so they won't die of their injuries.

Torture. They lie there, bound and gagged. You can see maybe Jimmer tries to use as little energy as possible. He's such a pro to try and look at Thun to check in with him. Thun returns the look,

holds it, and then closes his eyes. Time passes. The light from outside begins to dim as night falls. All the candles that Quivixia lit have burned down to just stubs, and Jimmer and Thune are asleep. The faintest sound can be heard from outside, and Jimmer's eyes dart open,

the training of a great fighter. He still possesses hyper-awareness, even in his broken state. Jimmer turns to look toward the opening in the chamber in the direction of that noise, and he just sees the feet of a figure walk in, clad only in black robes. The figure leans down to Jimmer.

Hello there. Jimmer Hardy, is it? Hardy, is it? We have not had the pleasure of meeting, but we have a mutual acquaintance in common. Thun's eyes open at Brander's voice. Oh, God. And he looks up, trying to figure out what's going on. Brander looks to him.

Ah. Hello, old friend. It's been a long time. I see you're still up to your old tricks, getting involved in other people's stories until you decide to move on. Well, both of you should know

that your friends are safe. For now, at least. These giants put too much stock in public displays of their power. They've underestimated you all, to be honest. This is not a mistake the storm tyrant will make, however. No. It is not a mistake the storm tyrant will make, however. No.

No, to defeat that creature will take a true miracle. That is why I could not risk losing you, Jimmer. Because of all the allies they've made, you might be the most deadly. No, no, you must be preserved at all costs. Should the gunslinger falter, the slayer miss his mark, the sorcerer overestimate her power, or the Deathbringer bring death upon himself. They'll need a weapon like you waiting in the wings. In the meantime, I have my own uses for you.

He leans down and pulls the gag out of your mouth. Jimmer, you can't remember the last time you could actually breathe without a gag in your mouth. I must know. What did you hope to achieve by aligning with these people? From what I understand, this all began with you searching for this old friend of yours. But the Galabras you knew no longer exists. You're chasing a ghost,

my dear sir. Jimmer coughs a little bit and laughs. I don't care. I don't care. I pledged myself into that boy's service. I swore to be that young man's guardian and protector.

And I will be, though you squeeze the last breath from my body. How noble. Odes. So many people in this world take odes. You see these bones behind me? They belong to an ancient silver dragon known as Kilpoth. This was her home. She had many servants like you serve, Jimmer.

You see, silver dragons are known for their honor, their chivalry, courage, and dedication to those they protect. Let me ask, do you know of the great silver dragon, Terendilev, who protected the city of Canarboros for so many years? Well, with a powerful guardian like Terendalev, that city flourished until the demons came. Even then, so mighty was Terendalev, the protector, that she almost slayed a Bela demon to protect the city she was charged with watching over.

But eventually, even she could not stop the inevitable. Just like Kilpoth here. You see, not unlike these now dead dragons, you too have wasted your life in service to others you can call it duty or honor but don't you think being a protector

or a guardian is a meaningless life I feel sad for you, my friend. That you can't see the value in what I do. He puts the gag back in your mouth and stands up, looking down at you. Your death, when it comes, and it will come, will be like a shield that breaks against a lance. And what do you do when that happens? You simply discard the broken pieces and put another shield in its place.

Well, if that's life you choose, perhaps you'll be my shield. Oh no. Rest, Jimmer. He places a hand on Jimmer and Jimmer falls unconscious. You'll need your strength. Pats you. And slowly Brander turns his head toward Thune.

I think it's time you and I catch up. Shall we? And we'll see you in part two. I don't like at all what you just did. I don't like it. I know what you did.

And I quit. I quit. I don't like it. I'm not doing it. I'm not doing it. I don't like it. is copyright 2015. Giant Slayer and the Pathfinder Adventure Path are trademarks of Paizo. All Pathfinder images are property of Paizo and are used with permission. you