Mage Mayhem

Part II

Oh dear gods what have we come across? The half eaten body of the mage is just lying on the floor while Mister Dwalin starts to cut off the monster’s head! It has one huge eyeball and why anyone would think to keep a head is beyond me. Mister Mopan starts to direct his detainer Mjor, and she starts to clean up and proceeds to bury what’s left of the poor mage. It’s getting later in the day and I am pretty sure we’re going to end up spending the night here. Although I am not so sure as to how wise a decision that is considering we’re holing up in a dead man’s house! Mister Mopan escorts me outside so we can both scout the perimeter of the estate. There’s not much. But we do discover that the horrible man eating monoclopped beast got into the house. Claw marks indicate that it jumped over the low lying fence. I’m terrified. I don’t want to stay inside, but something tells me camping outside will also be dangerous. I half want to take my chances but I want to make sure the weather will not be rough. My magic can only tell me that the next 24 hours is going to be a sickly black. Black? What the hellebore does that mean? I’ve cast this spell so many times since Garrett first taught it to me ten years ago and yet I’ve never seen the forecast look anything like this before! Mister Mopan seems to think it means the weather just looks foul enough that we should stay indoors, but maybe it’s just because he’s a creature of comfort. As we make our way back inside the house, both Misters Dwalin and Bird are busy rifling thru the poor mage’s library. Poor Mjor has done a fine job cleaning up, but I highly doubt the blood stains will come out. What a shame.

I’m worried. It seems to have been too quiet since we arrived and I want to make sure no one else is lurking upstairs. This is no small hobbit hole. So as we make our way up the stairs, the hallway opens up to a few doors. Misters Bird and Mopan seem to have ideas of their own as they choose doors closest to them. I make my way to the door at the end of the hallway and as I put my ear to the door to listen for any sound, I jump right out of my skin as I’m startled by the loud banging of Mister Mopan masterfully kicking down the door of his choosing. As I’m trying to swallow my heart that’s jumped into my throat, I look over to Mister Bird at the ready at his open door and Mister Mopan gleefully breaking down his second. At this point, we’ve lost the element of any surprise so I try for my door. It’s unlocked. I turn the handle and push the door open. It’s a bedroom. A huge bedroom. I could put my whole family up in this room-and not just the Blossom clan, but the Buttonwillows and the Marshweeds too! There is an elegant bed in the room and as I stand in the doorframe about to step in, Mister Mopan hurdles past me in a woosh and leaps on to the sumptuous bed linens. So much for gentlemanly chivalry! But for a dwarf I must say he is veerrry limber.

From my line of sight, there are 5 boxes visible underneath the bed. Perhaps there may be something we can learn from the mage who lived here or find something of value? As I open the first box, I’m HORRIFIED to find myself looking at poorly drawn obscene trash! I’m hoping to find more than just trashy smut but as I progress throught the boxes, the artistry seems to get better—I mean it’s just as tasteless as the last but the artist seems to have progressed in his skill to make the drawings as realistic as possible. Mister Mopan’s only response to my audible surprise of “TRASH!” is that this mage did not keep a clean house. I think he may have been too busy being enthralled with the linen quality. And I’m glad too, because I am so sure my face was the brightest shade of beet red possible, for in the last box to my shock is a portrait of Mister Mopan himself, in the buff, on an owl-bear skin rug! I can’t bear myself to bring this up, I might die of embarrassment!



I'm sorry, but we no longer support this web browser. Please upgrade your browser or install Chrome or Firefox to enjoy the full functionality of this site.