First of all, you know what my mother got me last for a gift? A new shirt. Nethwen‘s mom got her a FREAKIN’ KILLER TIGER. Seriously. Jet black with red glowing eyes like a demon from hell. It just watches me and licks its lips. WHAT KIND OF MOTHER BUYS HER DAUGHTER A MURDER CAT?
Seriously, it’s the size of a horse. And it eats people. Who trusts a thing like that?
Anyway, I awoke the morning we went down into the dark to discover a tome sitting on my chest. It’s silver and covered with vines and it glows like a torch to my mage-sight. Inside was lore. Lore that told me all about some new tricks to try. Weathercraft and magic staves and the gentle art of mocking the foolish. It’s glorious and I can only guess it’s a gift from the nice god that owns my soul. I don’t know why he would send me a book of spells, but I suppose there’s got to be some sort of motive. Of course it’s a god, so who can know the mind of a god? As long as I don’t have to kneel and sing hosannas, I’m agreeable. I draw the line at singing.
So when we went down into the deep I went armed with some new magical tricks. Fortunately I didn’t need them. We came across a bunch of dead kobolds first off, slain and looted and left. Then deeper into the vaults we went, until we came across a hissing voice that claimed to not be a ratfolk. Of course that meant that we had to murder it, because it had the temerity to talk to us. Of course, it had friends. And cousins. And second cousins. And a freakin’ lizard queen. We made our stand, staying alive while we slaughtered everyone else. Eventually we stood alone among the dead, and I took the time to check for magical auras using my mage sight. The dwarf and the paladin took off, though I heard a lot of retching and something about a lizard sex dungeon? (Note: if I ever start that band, Lizard Sex Dungeon is a great band name.)
I guess we’re going to have to go in after the pair. After all, I totally need to see what a Lizard Sex Dungeon looks like.