Day 8

Sometimes I think fate really likes to mess with me every chance it gets.

The task Reaver had assigned to me was simple. Take the seal and return it to its owners in Witchwood. Alright. Exempting the odd Banshee/Hollow Man horde, it shouldn’t be a problem. WRONG.

You see, Reaver is a clever son of a gun. Turns out the owners of the seal, called the Shadow Court, had been expecting me. Reaver had, sometime in the distant reaches of the past, struck a deal with this Court that guarenteed him eternal youth so long as he periodically sacrificed that of others.

There happened to be another youth, a young maiden, in the court when I arrived. I had the option to give her the seal before the Court extracted the price (whoever was holding it would recieve the curse of old age), but of course in an act of selfless chivalry, I spared the girl and took the punishment upon myself. Doesn’t mean I wasn’t pissed.

I decided to blow off some steam before returning to Reaver and went off to kill a swamp troll, resurrect the long dead Lady Elvira Grey for a freaky gravekeeper, and kill a bunch of hobbes. I would return to Reaver the next day.


~ by Pickapok on November 1, 2008.

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