The Weight of the Shard and the Strength of Many

The Shard is gone. It hissed and popped under the holy water like a dying viper, and with it, the cold, insistent pressure in the back of my mind finally vanished. I argued to keep it—convinced myself I was the only one disciplined enough to manage its influence—but Zoot’s logic was, as usual, annoyingly sound. My family, the Freeblades, taught me that the greatest danger isn’t the enemy’s blade, but the failure to recognize when your own tactical judgment is compromised. I almost failed that test.

We are a larger group now, and the complexity of our “unit” is growing. It is… a lot of personality to manage. I find myself instinctively categorizing them, a habit of my logistical mind:

• Lex’xi: Deft and fast, though perhaps too prone to gambling with more than just gold.
• Zoot: His music provides a fortification I can’t explain, and his words carry an odd weight even if they seem nonsensical at times.
• Keeran: A dark-clad ranger who knows these woods better than any map; his blades are a whirlwind when the parley fails.
• Thoradin & Lyd: Steady anchors of faith and martial prowess—rocks the rest of us can use to find our footing and hold our ground.

Watching them navigate the Shaman’s trials—from the crocodile pits to the poison darts—made one thing clear: no single one of us could have done this alone. I used my Soul Candle to find the mechanisms, but it was Lex’xi’s speed and Keeran’s martial prowess that turned the tide against the ghoul in the sacred cave.

I feel the familiar tug of the Freeblade doctrine—the need to “use” these strengths like pieces on a board to ensure everyone survives. I don’t like the thought of treating my companions as assets to be spent, yet if we are to survive this “Doom” that seems to be spreading, it is a talent I must lean into. It is for the good of the group, but the line between commander and friend is getting uncomfortably thin.

Torkil is saved, and the corruption is purged from the Sunfly tribe for now. I should sleep, but I’ll likely spend the night calculating the trajectory of our next move. Preparedness is the only thing that keeps the fear of failure at bay.