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The rain poured down hard on the lone figure walking on the dusty, now muddy path. The man held his cloak tight to try to shelter himself as best as he could. It did not matter how the weather was, he was tasked to deliver the message and deliver it he would. Continue reading
After several seconds, the pain in Jecthor’s abdomen had grown to an almost unbearable level. Herman quickly circled him and, using his staff, gave three quick taps on the courrier’s back. As the third tap hit Jecthor’s back, he let out a loud, pink-coloured, strawberry-smelling belch. The burp was loud enough that it resonated with Herman’s kettle, causing it to spill over to the side. Continue reading
The young man, Herminicle Vortexus, was about thirty years old. He had jet black hair worn in a ponytail with a short goatee. He carried a crystal staff and wore red and orange robes etched in protective runes. He was not skilled in close combat, but he kept a good repertoire of spells and rituals, one of which he had just completed, a disk of energy now hovering beside him. Continue reading
He turned to the hanging cage, where the young boy was watching the battle with intrigue. The goblin smirked and pointed his finger towards the rusty old chain holding the cage aloft. Randyst knew what the creature planned: he was going to drop the boy to those spiky stalagmites!
“Nooooooo!” Exclaimed Randyst. Continue reading
Suddenly, a tremor rumbled through his cabin, causing everything to shake violently. Flasks and pots fell to the floor, some crashing into small little pieces and, at the end of the room, Herman’s large library tipped over, causing a barrage of old dusty books to fall to the floor. The wizard himself almost lost his balance, although he managed to grab hold of the wall. Continue reading