Wow. Aimee has quite the exciting life. I'm from Northern Canada, and all we get is the occasional Warg attack, and, of course, the frequent plagues of federal goblins. A lingerie curse is certainly new to me. I want to ask about the garterbelt, but feel it would be rude at this early stage of our friendship.
She mentions the guy in the corner, who is now on his third plate of waffles. I draw a compact out of my back and do the old look-with-the-hidden-mirrow trick. The waffle fancier is hooded but I swear his eyes are glowing. I think we'll need a bit more liquid courage.
Glowing eyes have always squicked me. Liquid courage? Bring it on. I'll have a brambleberry mead to go with my waffles please. And make it a triple.
One of the patrons of the eating establishment has the taint of my foe's magic about her. She appears to notice me staring or perhaps it's just that black eyes and pointy ears are not common in these parts.
I pay for my meal with a little gold coin that won't last for long. On my way out, I let a fingertip brush the tainted one, just enough to leave a mark that I can trace later if needed.
Outside, I'm greeted by utterly horrible bright sunny weather. With a brief incantation to call upon the power of some of the less pleasent members of the underworld, dark clouds start to roll in. That's better, now I can concentrate on finding a suitable place to settle in and start making some minions.
Penny? Did you just feel that? Felt like a spirit being passed behind me.
I feel a bit of a chill, but maybe that's because the weather is going to hell. We'd better get to Miracleman before a serious storm sets in.
Aimee and I grab out stuff and head out of the tavern. We check all the roads ahead, but see no sign of the wraithy one. We don't need to ask directions to find Miracleman. I am guided by infallible instinct, she by the call of magic.
Of course, anyone could find Miracleman's tower now; lighting is shooting from the weathervane up
into
the sky.
Say, Aimee, what's the market for teachers like around here?
"...the what?"
"The Axe of Gor-Thraun the Maker. It's a dwarf axe."
"Is this it?"
"No, that's the Axe of Nibbelungingungingung. Try the hall closet."
Clouds rolling in, hellish spam, a bra...
...a bra? What?
The niggling little voice in the back of my head has been jumping up and down and waving its arms for some time now. I let it talk.
Oh, crap on a cracker. For the luvva all the demonic hordes of Ur-Mu. By all the stone-cracking thunderous shouts of the Dark Giants Beyond The Mountains.
Shit.
Her? But that was...that was all...
I never did lift that curse did I? You know how it is, so busy, things slip by...
She's probably really pissed.
"HECTOR! We need to strengthen those wards and barriers NOW!"
"How strong?"
"As though all the darkness in all the worlds has decided to sell us Amway...today!"
Teachers? Good ones? I heard excellent. Those without powers tend to not last long.
Hey! Does that boogey man guy still hang around Miracleman?
He has a boogey man? News to me. I don't actually know the guy, I'm just trying to find a market for my new invention. I asked about teaching because I have a feeling that this sales meeting is not going to go well.
Not an unreasonable feeling, given that a ring of fire has just sprung up around Miracleman's lair. Also, that suit of armor appears to be moving and heavily armed.
Sigh. So much for my dreams of sudden wealth.
